3^ 


/2  ■        /^.     '^^^~ 

/ 


SISTER    AND     SAINT. 


A.     SK:  E  T  O  K 


OF  THE   LIFE  OF 


JACQUELINE     PASCAL 


BY 
SOPHY  WINTHROP  WEITZEL. 


NEW  YORK: 
ANSON    D.    F.    RANDOLPH    &    COMPANY, 

900  Broadway,  corner  20TI1  Street. 


Copyright,  1880,  by 

Anson  D.  F.  Randolph  &  Company. 


Edward  O    Jenkins,  Printer, 
so  North  William  Street. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 
A  Home  in  Auvergne,  --------3 

CHAPTER  11. 
Poetry  and  Geometry,         ._..---      15 

CHAPTER   HI. 
The  Cardinal  frowns  ;  the  Cardinal  smiles,         -       -      29 

CHAPTER   IV. 
Into  Normandy,  _-.-_-.       .41 

CHAPTER  V. 
A  Flemish  Bishop,         ..--..--55 

CHAPTER  VI. 
The  Director  of  Consciences,  -----      65 

CHAPTER  VII. 
"The  Obstacle  becomes  the  Instrument,"      -       -       -      79 

CHAPTER    VIII. 
A  Happy  Year,       ---.----.95 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Climbing,         --. -.    113 

(V) 


vi  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   X. 
Port  Royal  and  the  Mere  Angelique,  _       -       .      133 


CHAPTER  XI. 
At  the  Convent  Gates,     _.-----      151 

CHAPTER  Xn. 
Waiting, 167 

CHAPTER    XHI. 
The  Lord  Opens  the  Way,        -       -       -       -       -     '  -      189 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Fresh  Trials,       -..-.----      205 

CHAPTER  XV. 
A  Bundle  of  Letters,        ..-..--      221 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
Teaching  the  Convent  School,       -----      239 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
The  Masterpiece  and  the  Miracle,         -       -       -       -      253 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Sorrowful  Days, 275 

CHAPTER    XIX. 
Those  Left  Behind, 295 

CHAPTER    XX, 
(Supplementary).     Fragments  gathered  up,  -       -      309 


INTRODUCTORY   NOTE. 


As  good  Bishop  Jansen's  ponderous  book  is  said  to  have 
been  "  a  tissue  of  texts  from  St.  Augustine,"  so  the  web  of 
this  brief  biography  is  woven  of  many  threads  from  various 
authorities. 

Much  of  it  is  translation,  some  portions  are  adapted  from 
previous  translations.  Every  important  item  has  been  verified 
by  reference  to  the  best  sources,  especially  to  Sainte-Beuve, 
the  acknowledged  chief  of  Port  Royal  historians.  Thus,  though 
slight,  the  little  history  claims  to  be  accurate.  Its  only 
aim  is  to  lead  to  further  acquaintance  with  the  books  on 
which  it  is  founded  and  the  noble  group  of  characters  it 
intJ-oduces. 

The  following  authorities  may  be  consulted  with  profit  and 
pleasure  by  any  intelligent  reader : 

FRENCH. 

Jacqueline  Pascal.  Premieres  etudes  sur  les  femmes  il- 
lustres  de  XVIIe  siecle.      V.  Cousin. 

La  jeunesse  de  Madame  de  Longueville.      V.  Cousin. 

Mme.  de  Longueville  pendant  la  Fronde.      V.  Cousin. 

Vie  de  Jacqueline  Pascal  par  Mme.  Perier,  sa  soeur. 

Vie  de  Blaise  Pascal  par  Mme.  Perier,  sa  soeur. 

Lettres,  opuscules  et  m^moires  de  Gilberte  et  de  Jacque- 
line, soeurs  de  Pascal.     Faugere. 

Memoires  de  Marguerite  Perier  sur  sa  famille.  Scenes 
d'histoire  et  de  famille.     Mme.  De  Wiit^  nee  Guizot. 

(vu) 


INTRODUCTORY  NOTE. 


ENGLISH. 

Select  Memoirs  of  Port  Royal.  2  vols.  By  M.  A.  Schim- 
nielpenninck. 

Life  of  Angelique  Arnauld.     By  Frances  Martin, 
Life  of  Pascal,  by  Principal  Tiilloch. 

The  other  books  to  which  I  refer  will  be  chiefly  interesting 
to  those  who  are  making  a  special  study  of  the  subject. 

Port  Royal.     Par  C.  A.  Sainte-Beuve.     7  vols. 

Memoires  pour  servir  a  I'histoire  de  Port  Royal.  Par  M. 
Fontaine. 

Memoires  touchant  la  Vie  de  M.  de  St.  Cyran.  Par  Lan- 
celot. 

Vies  intdressantes  et  edifiantes  des  Religieuses  de  Port 
Royal. 

Faugere's  introduction  to  Pe?tsees  de  Pascal. 

Leben  Jacquehne  Pascal.  Nonne  von  Port  Royal.  Dr. 
Reuchlin, 

I  mention  also  a  Life  of  Jacqueline  Pascal,  published 
by  Carter  &  Brothers,  1854,  from  which  I  have  taken  some 
translations  of  poems. 

June,  1880.  S.  W.  W. 


C^rtat  Umvts  aXone  wuxTevstaitd  Tiotu 
tnncU  qXovx\  tlxjevje  is  in  hcinci  rjooxX, 

MiCHELET. 


A    HOME    IN    AUVERGNE 


I. 


A  HOME  IN  AUVERGNE. 


vISTORY  gives  us  some  charming  glimpses.  A 
distant  city,  a  cluster  of  village  dwellings, 
perhaps  a  solitary  abbey  catches  the  mind's 
eye,  just  as  in  a  hasty  journey  roofs  peep  out  here 
and  there  beneath  which  we  would  gladly  linger,  or 
a  ruin  flashes  on  us  for  an  instant  whose  story  we 
wish  we  could  stop  to  hear. 

A  wonderful  picturesque  charm  gathers  about 
certain  names  of  places — it  is  the  charm  of  vivid  cir- 
cumstance, of  dramatic  event,  of  lofty  character — 
all  this  under  the  enchantment  of  distance  in  time 
and  difference  in  manners. 

Whenever  we  hear  these  names,  though  we  may 
have  little  actual  knowledge  of  the  history  connected 
with  them,  a  picture  rises  to  the  eye  and  an  interest 
stirs  in  the  mind. 

Clermont,  in  the  province  of  Auvergne,  just  south 
of  the  heart  of  sunny  France,  is  one  of  these  names. 

(3) 


Sister  and  Saint. 


The  very  word  is  breezy  and  suggestive.  And  from 
all  we  can  learn  of  the  surrounding  country — mount- 
ainous and  bold,  yet  rich  and  smiling — it  seems  fully 
to  merit  the  affectionate  praise  with  which  Jacqueline 
Pascal  celebrates  it  in  these  lines : 

"  A  climate,  fertile  in  unnumbered  charms, 
Though  ornaments,  save  Nature's,  it  has  none ; 
In  stern  simplicity,  untouched  by  art. 
It  yields  a  picture  of  its  Maker's  power. 
There, — in  Auvergne, — from  those  proud  peaks  afar, 
Whose  gloomy  heights  nor  fruit  nor  harvests  know, 
But  in  their  stead  dark  precipices  yawn — 
Rises  a  little  hill,  so  fresh  and  fair, 
So  favored  by  the  Sun's  celestial  ray. 
That  Clazrmont  seems  its  most  appropriate  name." 

Our  first  glimpse  of  Clermont  is  an  exceedingly 
striking  one.  Thither  in  1095  came  the  pope,  Urban 
II.,  with  a  great  retinue  of  bishops,  priests,  and  car- 
dinals, to  hold  a  solemn  council  and  preach  the  first 
crusade. 

Mellowed  but  not  dimmed  by  the  far  mediseval 
light,  we  see  the  picture ; — the  broad  open  Place 
before  the  already  noble  cathedral,  densely  packed 
with  a  swaying,  shouting,  excited,  expectant  multitude 
— Rembrandt-like  old  men  leaning  on  their  staves, 
oddly-dressed  women  holding  aloft  oddly-dressed  ba- 
bies, pious,  humble  peasants  from  the  remotest  hamlets 
of  the  province,  come  up  to  look  once,  before  they  die, 
on  the  representative  of  their  Lord  upon  the  earth, 
and  to  receive  from  him  a  blessing. 


A  Home  in  Auvergne. 


Gay  silken  banners  and  festoons  of  gorgeous  arra& 
adorn  the  tall,  steep-gabled  houses  that  front  the 
square.  Ladies  and  children  in  costume  the  most 
brilliant  and  bizarre  appear  at  the  quaint,  small,  un- 
glazed  windows. 

White  hands  (oh,  how  long  ago  turned  to  dust!) 
wave  greetings  answered  by  the  gleam  of  knightly 
helmets  in  the  square  below. 

In  the  distance  is  heard  the  stirring  sound  of  trump- 
ets, then  the  solemn  chants  of  the  Church.  Then 
slowly  comes  into  view  the  long  procession  of  priestly 
dignitaries.  Last  of  all,  the  pope  himself,  seated  on 
a  white  mule,  solemnly  advances  through  the  now 
hushed  and  kneeling  multitude.  He  is  conducted  up 
the  carpeted  platform  prepared  for  him,  and  pointed 
to  the  throne.  But  he  turns  his  back  upon  it.  His 
message  can  not  wait.  ''  II  fait  un  geste  de  grande 
impatience,"  says  the  old  chronicler,  and  turns  toward 
the  people. 

Then  follow  those  burning  words  which,  kindling 
on  this  ready  populace — springing  from  low  to  high, 
from  high  back  again  to  low — seizing  with  equal  vio- 
lence ignorant  peasant  boys  and  girls  and  the  great 
Count  Raymond  of  Toulouse  with  Elvira,  his  beau- 
tiful wife — spread  from  this  center  over  all  France, 
from  France  over  all  Europe,  and  resulted  in  the 
sublime  madness  of  the  crusades. 

As  the  pope's  voice  ceased,  it  is  said,  a  solemn  cry 


Sister  and  Saint. 


burst  from  the  multitude,  "  It  is  the  will  of  God !  It 
is  the  will  of  God  !" 

A  knight  tore  in  pieces  his  scarlet  mantle,  and 
pinning  the  bits  together  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  fixed 
them  on  the  shoulders  of  those  near  him.  The  crowd 
pressed  eagerly  around  him  to  obtain  the  fragments. 
The  booths  of  the  merchants  surrounding  the  Place 
were  entered  and  rifled  of  their  scarlet  stuffs,  and 
soon  the  inspiring  emblem  blazed  on  every  side. 

A  few  weeks  later  the  fountain  plashed  to  a  silent 
and  deserted  square.  The  knights  were  gone.  The 
ladies  and  children  lingered  no  longer  at  the  windows 
in  holiday  attire,  and  we  shall  never  again  see  Cler- 
mont in  so  picturesque  a  light  as  on  that  November 
afternoon. 

Six  centuries  after  this  we  know  of  Clermont,  or 
rather  of  its  overhanging  mountain,  Puy-de-D6me, 
as  one  of  the  centers  of  scientific  experiment  on  the 
weight  of  the  atmosphere,  of  which  experiments  the 
barometer  is  the  result. 

Again  we  read  of  the  finding  of  the  codex  claro- 
montanus — an  early  copy  of  St.  Paul's  epistles — in 
the  monastery  on  the  side  of  the  mountain.  This  is 
a  manuscript  highly  valued  by  scholars,  and  Tischen- 
dorf  published  it  in  fac-simile  not  many  years  ago. 

To-day  Clermont  is  a  noisy,  humdrum,  manufac- 
turing city.  A  railway  connects  it  with  Paris,  but  ter- 
minates here,  so  that  the  city  stands,  as  of  old,  portal 


A  Home  in  Auvergjte. 


and  fortress  to  the  wild,  rich  province  of  Auvergne. 
It  is  quite  out  of  the  way  of  tourists,  and  even  the 
"  commercial  traveler,"  intent  on  his  purchases  of 
linen  or  woolen  fabrics,  hosiery  or  paper,  scarcely 
lingers  long  enough  in  the  old  Place  to  feel  its  quaint, 
peculiar  charm. 

To  us,  in  this  little  book,  Clermont  will  be  chiefly 
interesting  as  the  early  home  of  the  Pascals. 

In  the  city's  best  days  perhaps — the  early  part  of 
the  seventeenth  century — this  family  lived  here.  The 
father,  Etienne  (or  anglicd  Stephen),  was  President  of 
the  Court  of  Excise.  This  was  a  high  position,  open 
to  him  as  member  of  a  wealthy  and  influential  family 
of  long  standing  in  the  province.  It  had  not  been  a 
titled  race  till,  in  1478,  Louis  XL,  in  recognition  of 
faithful  service,  bestowed  upon  it  that  honor,  and 
thus  our  friends  became  possessed  of  that  best  patent 
of  nobility  which  comes  of  good  works. 

They  lived,  of  course,  in  some  stateliness — this 
father  and  his  little  family  of  one  son  and  two  daugh- 
ters— yet  in  much  less  than  our  modern  American 
notions  of  elegance  would  lead  us  to  suppose.  For 
nowhere  is  the  simplicity  of  true  dignity  more  con- 
spicuous than  in  the  daily  life  of  the  high  families  of 
France.  The  furnishing  of  those  lofty,  airy  rooms, 
the  quiet  menage  and  simple  diet  would  surprise  us 
by  their  plainness. 

The  eldest  daughter,  Gilberte,  was  obliged  early  to 


Sister  and  Saint, 


"look  well  to  the  ways  of  her  household,"  for  her 
mother  died  when  she  was  but  seven  years  old.  But 
while  practicing  her  various  domestic  arts  and  learning 
that  delicate  craft  of  cookery  in  which  every  French 
lady  is  trained,  she  was  not  idle  mentally.  Her  father 
taught  her  history,  Latin,  and  mathematics,  and  with 
such  success  that  she  is  mentioned  by  her  brother's 
biographers  as  "  une  femme  tr^s-instruite."  She  be- 
came a  vigorous  thinker — and  in  those  days  there  was 
a  deal  of  profound  and  practical  thinking  to  be  done 
— and  in  the  specimens  of  her  writing  left  to  us  in 
sketches  of  her  brother  and  sister,  her  style  is  remark- 
ably clear,  graceful,  and  pleasing. 

Blaise,  the  son,  carne  next  tp  Gilberte  on  the  family 
record,  and  then  the  little  Jacqueline,  born  in  1625, 
and  a  baby  of  a  year  old  when  her  mother  died. 
Blaise  is  the  central  figure  of  this  family  group.  But 
for  him  we  should  have  known  next  to  nothing  of 
Jacqueline,  and  nothing,  probably,  of  Gilberte  and 
their  father. 

Blaise  Pascal  was  first  a  thinker,  then  a  saint.  A 
wonderful  combination  of  scientific  acuteness  and 
child-like  faith,  a  shining  example  of  great  mental 
and  great  spiritual  qualities,  and  one  whose  name 
will  be  always  honored  by  men  as  diverse  as  the  mate- 
rialist and  the  mystic,  j 

We  could  easily  linger  over  his  story.  But  seen 
in  the   side  lights  of   family  life,  perhaps   we  shall 


A  Home  in  Auvergne. 


find  him  quite  as  interesting  as  if  more  directly  stud- 
ied. 

And,  indeed,  so  intimate  is  his  kinship  with  his 
sister  JacqueHne,  so  closely  interwoven  the  web  of 
their  deepest  experiences,  that,  in  reading  of  her,  we 
must  of  necessity  come  very  near  him. 

This  brother  and  sister  were  only  about  two  years 
separated  in  age.  They  were  companions  in  study 
and  in  play.  His  thoughts  were  her  thoughts,  not 
only  in  childhood,  but  throughout  life,  and  so  great 
was  their  sympathy  in  all  respects  that  they  have 
been  spoken  of  as  "  spiritual  twins."  Her  mind  in 
youth  was  more  versatile  than  his,  and,  while  climb- 
ing with  him  to  all  his  heights,  she  carried  with  her  a 
feminine  lightness  and  charm,  "  to  cheat  the  toil  and 
cheer  the  way,"  which  must  have  been  invaluable  to 
him. 

Both  these  sisters,  Gilberte  and  Jacqueline,  are 
said  to  have  been  "  parfaitement  belles,"  which  is 
certainly  strong  language.  ''  Gilberte,  as  soon  as  she 
was  old  enough,  mingled  in  society  suited  to  her 
rank,  and  was  much  admired,  being  beautiful,  grace- 
ful, and  very  witty.  And  when  Jacqueline,  six  years 
younger  than  Gilberte,  in  her  turn  grew  to  woman- 
hood, her  charms  were  not  unrecognized,  as  we  shall 
see. 

And  now,  from  this  home  in  Clermont,  let  us  look 
out  for  a  moment  over  France  and  over  Europe,  and 


lo  Sister  and  Saint. 

see  what  kind  of  a  world  it  is  in  which  the  Pascals 
pass  their  childhood. 

On  the  throne  of  France  sits  Louis  XIII.  But  on 
the  throne  behind  the  throne,  ruling  with  a  rod  of 
iron  over  king  and  people,  is  Richelieu,  prime  minis- 
ter and  cardinal.  Just  at  this  time  he  is  building  for 
himself  a  new  house — the  Palais  Royal.  The  large 
court-yard  of  this  palace,  now  surrounded  by  brilliant 
shops  and  caf6s,  is  familiar  to  every  American  who 
visits  Paris.  Almost  everybody  has  taken  a  cup  of 
coffee  under  the  horse-chestnut  trees,  and  bought  a  bit 
of  clever  imitation  jewelry  in  one  of  the  arcades. 
This  is  all  that  is  left  to-day  of  the  glory  of  Richelieu's 
residence.  The  spacious  halls  and  galleries,  which  ex- 
tended in  all  directions  from  this  central  court,  have 
more  than  once  suffered  from  violence  and  fire  since 
his  time. 

At  the  time  of  which  we  write,  the  Reformation 
had  taken  thorough  hold  of  Germany,  and  Protest- 
ants in  France  had  becom?  so  numerous  and  powerful 
as  to  be  worthy  of  Richelieu's  hatred.  His  wars 
against  them,  and  against  England,  as  friendly  to 
French  Protestantism,  came  to  a  successful  end  in 
1628,  when  Jacqueline  Pascal  was  three  years  old. 

Louis  XIII. 's  queen  was  Anne  of  Austria.  She 
seems  to  have  been  chiefly  remarkable  for  two  per- 
sonal peculiarities.  One  of  these  was  an  exceedingly 
delicate  sense  of  feeling  in  all  parts  of  the  surface  of 


A  Home  in  Aiivergne.  ii 

her  body,  so  that  all  ordinary  linen  and  cambric  was 
rough  to  her,  and  it  was  exceedingly  difficult  to  find 
fabrics  fine  enough  for  her  use.  How  fortunate  that 
she  was  a  queen,  and  not  a  peasant  woman,  doomed 
to  die  of  homespun  ! 

Her  other  distinguishing  peculiarity  was  such  an 
aversion  to  roses  that  she  could  not  even  look  upon 
a  painted  one. 

Altogether  she  seems  an  uninteresting,  indeed 
rather  a  disagreeable  woman,  and  we  do  not  much 
wonder  that  her  husband  was  content  to  live  the 
greater  part  of  their  married  life  in  complete  separa- 
tion from  her. 

Louis  himself  was  a  respectable  and  honest  man, 
and  that  is  saying  a  good  deal  for  a  king.  He  was 
not  fond  of  ruling,  and,  indeed,  had  little  chance  for 
it,  but  he  was  full  of  bravery  and  self-possession  in 
war,  and  much  honored  and  admired  by  the  soldiery. 
His  morals  were  not  corrupt,  and  for  purity  and  true 
nobility  his  court  was  a  happy  contrast  to  that  of  his 
more  brilliant  son,  Louis  XIV.  When,  after  twenty- 
two  years  of  married  life,  this  son  and  heir  was  born, 
there  was  the  greatest  rejoicing  throughout  the 
kingdom. 

Thus  matters  stood  in  France.  Across  the  Chan- 
nel Charles  L  was  on  the  throne,  and  Archbishop  Laud 
endeavoring  to  act  in  England  something  correspond- 
ing to  the  part  which  Richelieu  was  acting  in  France. 


12  Sister  and  Saint, 

The  Puritans  were  stirring.  Every  day  they  grew 
more  powerful,  and  were  soon  to  break  into  open  re- 
beUion.  Already  some  had  left  the  country,  for  as 
we  well  know,  the  Mayflower  had  anchored  off  Plym- 
outh Rock  in  1620,  five  years  before  Jacqueline  Pas- 
cal was  born. 

There  were  no  daily  newspapers  in  those  days. 
But  we  may  well  believe  that  the  table-talk  of  an  in- 
telligent family  like  the  Pascals  would  now  and  then 
fall  upon  these  themes.  Their  father  would,  perhaps, 
tell  them  some  fresh  report  from  the  Dutch  colony  at 
New  Amsterdam,  or  the  English  in  Massachusetts  or 
Virginia,  or  their  own  French  settlements  in  Lou- 
isiana. They  were  faithful  little  Catholics  and  all 
Puritan  proceedings  would  be  sure  to  strike  them  with 
abhorrence,  but  we  can  imagine  their  delight,  never- 
theless, in  some  of  the  strange,  wild  stories,  and  alto- 
gether it  rhust  have  been  an  interesting  world  out 
at  which  they  looked  from  their  quiet  home  in 
Clermont. 


POETRY    AND    GEOMETRY. 


•&/^fe- 


II. 


POETRY  AND   GEOMETRY. 


^  Jk    y^E  have  a  record  of  Jacqueline's  early  years 
^^^       in    Gilberte's    little    book,    entitled   "A 
Sketch  of  the  Life  of  Sister  Jacqueline  de 
Sainte  Euphemie,  by  birth  Jacqueline  Pascal." 

"  I  was  six  years  older  than  she,"  says  the  writer, 
"  and  can  remember  that  as  soon  as  she  began  to 
speak,  she  gave  signs  of  great  intelligence,  besides 
being  very  beautiful  and  of  a  kindly  and  sweet  tem- 
per, the  most  winning  in  the  world.  She  was,  there- 
fore, as  much  loved  and  caressed  as  a  child  could  pos- 
sibly be.  At  seven  years  old  she  began  to  learn  to 
read,  and,  by  my  father's  wish,  I  became  her  teacher. 
This  was  a  troublesome  task,  on  account  of  her  great 
aversion  to  it,  and  do  what  I  would,  I  could  not  coax 
her  to  come  and  say  her  lesson.  One  day,  however, 
I  chanced  to  be  reading  poetry  aloud,  and  the  rhythm 
pleased  her  so  much  that  she  said  to  me :  *  If  you 
want  me  to  read,  teach  me  out  of  a  verse-book,  and  I 

(15) 


1 6  Sister  a7id  Saint. 

will  say  my  lesson  as  often  as  you  like.'  This  surprised 
me,  for  I  did  not  think  that  a  child  of  her  age  could 
distinguish  verse  from  prose.  I  did  as  she  wished, 
and  after  that  time  she  was  always  talking  about 
verses,  and  learned  many  by  heart,  for  she  had  an 
excellent  memory.  She  wanted  to  know  the  rules  of 
poetry,  and  at  eight  years  old,  before  knowing  how 
to  read,  she  began  to  compose  lines  that  were  really 
not  bad." 

Before  this  time  the  family  had  moved  to  Paris. 
In  163 1,  when  Jacqueline  was  six  years  old,  Blaise 
eight,  and  Gilberte  twelve,  their  father  made  this 
change  of  residence  on  account  of  the  greater  facilities 
for  education  in  the  capital.  Since  the  death  of  his 
wife  he  had  considered  himself  especially  responsible 
for  the  rearing  of  his  children,  and  devoted  himself  to 
them  with  almost  a  mother's  tenderness.  He  taught 
them  not  only  language,  science,  and  belles  lettrcs,  but 
grounded  them  thoroughly  and  systematically  in  re- 
ligious truth,  as  he  understood  it.  His  son's  educa- 
tion he  took  entirely  into  his  own  hands,  Pascal  never 
entering  any  college  or  having  any  other  master  than 
his  father. 

In  order  to  attend  thus  particularly  to  his  children, 
Etienne  Pascal  was  obliged  to  give  up  business,  and 
on  leaving  Clermont  he  sold  his  office  of  President  of 
the  Excise  Court,  and  invested  largely  in  stocks  of 
the  Hotel  de   Ville  in  Paris,  one  of   Cardinal  Riche- 


Poetry  and  Geometry.  17 

lieu's  speculations.  He  did  not,  however,  give  up  his 
house  and  other  property  in  Clermont,  and  the  fam- 
ily returned  occasionally  to  their  native  place. 

In  Paris  the  children  entered  at  once  upon  a  pleas- 
ant and  busy  life. 

Gilberte  says  of  Jacqueline  at  this  time,  "  She  was 
so  pretty  a  child,  and  so  agreeable,  that  she  became 
a  general  favorite,  in  request  with  all  our  friends,  and 
spent  but  little  of  her  time  at  home. 

"  She  had,  in  particular,  two  playmates  who  con- 
tributed not  a  little  to  her  enjoyment.  They  were 
the  daughters  of  Madame  de  Saintot,  and  themselves 
made  verses,  though  not  much  older  than  Jacqueline  ; 
so  that  in  the  year  1636,  when  my  father  took  me 
with  him  on  a  journey  to  Auvergne,  and  Madame  de 
Saintot  begged  that  she  might  keep  my  sister  with 
her  while  we  were  gone,  the  three  little  girls  took  it 
into  their  heads  to  act  a  play,  and  composed  plot  and 
verses,  without  the  least  aid  from  any  one  eke.  It 
was,  however,  a  coherent  piece,  and  had  five  acts,  di- 
vided by  scenes  regularly  arranged.  They  performed 
it  themselves  twice,  with  some  other  actors  whom 
they  invited,  before  a  large  company.  Everybody 
wondered  that  such  children  should  be  capable  of 
constructing  a  complete  work,  and  many  pretty  things 
were  discovered  in  it,  so  that  it  became  the  talk  of  all 
Paris  for  a  long  time." 

The  story  goes  on,  rfnd  though  we  may  suspect  it 


Sister  and  Saint. 


of  a  little  pardonable  sisterly  partiality,  it  is  so  fresh 
and  natural  that  we  can  but  quote : 

"  My  sister  continued  to  make  verses  about  any- 
thing that  came  into  her  head,  as  well  as  on  all  extra- 
ordinary occurrences. 

"  When  the  Queen  was  expecting  an  heir,  she  did 
not  fail  to  write  on  so  fine  a  subject,  and  these  verses 
were  better  than  any  of  her  previous  efforts.  We 
lived  at  that  time  very  near  Monsieur  and  Madame 
de  Morangis  (a  gentleman  and  lady  of  the  court), 
who  took  so  much  delight  in  the  child's  pretty  ways 
that  she  was  with  them  nearly  every  day. 

"  Madame  de  Morangis,  charmed  with  the  idea  of 
Jacqueline's  having  written  verses  on  the  Queen's  situ- 
ation, said  that  she  would  take  her  to  St.  Germain  and 
present  her.  She  kept  her  word,  and  on  their  arrival, 
the  queen  being  at  the  moment  engaged,  every  one 
surrounded  the  little  girl,  in  order  to  question  her 
and  see  her  verses." 

Jacqueline  was  so  small  and  so  simple  in  her  ways 
that  the  ladies  felt  a  little  suspicious  as  to  her  being 
the  actual  author  of  the  lines.  Mademoiselle  de 
Montpensier,  niece  of  the  king,  then  a  young  girl, 
afterward  "  the  great  Mademoiselle,"  was  one  of  the 
company. 

"  If  you  can  make  verses  so  well,"  she  said  to 
Jacqueline,  "  make  some  for  me." 

The  little  girl  went  quietly  into  a  corner  and  wrote 


Poetry  and  Geometry.  19 

the  following,  evidently  composed  on  the  spur  of  the 
moment : 

"  It  is  our  noble  princess'  will, 
That  thou,  my  Muse,  exert  thy  skill 
To  celebrate  her  charms  to-day  : 
Hopeless  our  task  ! — the  only  way 
To  praise  her  well  is  to  avow 
The  simple  truth — we  know  not  how  ! " 

"  Now  make  one  for  Madame  de  Hautefort,"  said 
Mademoiselle,  and  Jacqueline  in  a  few  minutes  read 
them  this  impromptu  effort : 

"  Oh,  marvel  not,  bright  masterpiece  of  earth, 
At  the  prompt  tribute  by  your  charms  called  forth. 
Your  glance  that  roves  the  world  around 
In  every  clime  hath  captives  found. 
That  ray  which  charms  my  youthful  heart. 
May  well  arouse  my  fancy's  art." 

The  child,  we  see,  has  already  caught  the  courtly 
trick  of  flattery,  and  the  lines,  to  us,  seemed  stilted 
and  artificial.  But  we  must  remember  that  they  are 
French  poetry,  and  French  poetry  of  the  seventeenth 
century  as  well  as  the  production  of  a  little  girl. 

"  Soon  after  this  incident,"  goes  on  Gilberte's 
story,  "  permission  was  given  to  enter  the  queen's 
apartment,  and  Madame  de  Morangis  led  my  sister 
in.  The  Queen  was  surprised  at  her  poetry,  but  fan- 
cied at  first  that  it  .was  either  not  her  own,  or  that 
she  had  been  greatly  aided.    All  present  thought  the 


20  Sister  and  Saint. 

same,  but  Mademoiselle  removed  their  doubts  by 
showing  them  the  two  epigrams  that  Jacqueline  had 
just  made  in  her  presence  and  by  her  own  orders. 
This  circumstance  increased  the  general  admiration, 
and  from  that  day  forward  my  sister  was  often  at 
court,  and  much  caressed  by  the  King,  the  Queen, 
Mademoiselle,  and  all  who  saw  her.  She  even  had 
the  honor  of  waiting  on  her  Majesty  when  she  dined 
in  private,  Mademoiselle  taking  the  place  of  chief 
butler." 

Jacqueline  was  not  the  only  member  of  the  family 
admitted  to  the  presence  of  the  great.  Soon  after 
they  came  to  Paris,  M.  Pascal  had  taken  all  his  chil- 
dren to  see  the  cardinal.  Cousin  tells  us  of  this  in- 
terview that  "  Richelieu's  eagle  glance  at  once  selected 
these  children  from  among  the  waiting  crowd  in  his 
audience -chamber.  Struck  with  their  remarkable 
youthful  beauty,  he  did  not  wait  for  the  father  to 
introduce  them  to  his  notice.  He  himself,  after  ad- 
dressing them,  commended  them  to  their  father's 
special  care,  and  said,  *  I  intend  to  make  something 
great  of  them.' " 

Richelieu  was  a  good  promiser.  Something  great 
was  made  of  them,  but  it  was  by  no  means  he  who 
did  it. 

In  1638,  when  Jacqueline  was  thirteen  years  old,  a 
little  collection  of  her  poems  was  published,  dedi- 
cated to  the  Queen,  Anne  of  Austria.     Several  of  the 


Poetry  aitd  Geometry.  21 

pieces  are  addressed  to  this  royal  patroness  ;  some 
are  odes  in  honor  of  the  Virgin  and  of  St.  Cecilia, 
and  there  is  quite  an  array  of  short  epigrams  and 
love-songs,  which  seem  strangely  unnatural  for  a 
child  of  that  age,  and  utterly  unlike  herself  as  we 
afterward  know  her.  But  that  the  little  creature 
took  a  serious  view  of  her  gift,  and  exercised  it  with 
that  conscientiousness  which  later  became  so  strong 
a  characteristic,  is  evident  from  these 

"Stanzas  thanking  God  for  the  power  of  writing 

Poetry." 

"  Lord  of  the  universe, 

If  the  strong  chains  of  verse 
Round  my  delighted  soul  their  links  entwine, 

Here  let  me  humbly  own 

The  gift  is  Thine  alone, 
And  comes,  great  God,  from  no  desert  of  mine. 

"  Yea,  Lord,  how  many  long 

For  the  sweet  power  of  song. 
Which  Thou  hast  placed  in  my  young  feeble  heart ; 

Thy  bounties  string  my  lyre, 

And,  with  celestial  fire. 
To  my  dull  soul  a  hidden  light  impart. 

''  O  Lord,  a  thankless  mind 

Will  not  acquittal  find 
In  Thy  pure  presence.     Therefore  it  is  just 

That,  touched  with  godlike  flame, 

I  should  Thy  love  proclaim, 
And  chant  the  glories  of  Thy  Name  august. 

"  As  waterfalls,  and  rills. 
And  streams  wind  past  the  hills 
In  steady  progress  toward  their  parent  sea, 


2  2  Sister  and  Saint. 

Thus,  Lord,  my  simple  lays, 
Heedless  of  this  world's  praise, 
Find  their  way  home,  O  Source  Divine,  to  Thee  ! " 

Dear  little  girl !  "  Heedless  of  this  world's  praise  !  " 
That  was  the  secret  of  her  charm  and  the  key-note 
of  her  character.  Many  a  child  has  been  ruined  by 
less  flattering  attentions  than  she  received.  But  she 
took  all  with  a  simple  unconsciousness,  that  reminds 
one  of  the  "  little  child  set  in  the  midst,"  from  whom 
as  a  text  the  Great  Teacher  preached  so  grand  a  ser- 
mon. She  did  not  ignore  her  gift — "  the  sweet  power 
of  song  " — perhaps  even  valued  it  more  highly  than 
it  merited,  but  it  did  not  fill  her  soul  with  vanity. 
It  was  not  hers — it  was  a  "gift." 

"  Though  she  wrote  so  much,"  says  Gilberte,  '*  and 
received  so  much  attention,  she  did  not  lose  in  the 
least  her  gay  good-humor.  She  amused  herself  most 
heartily  with  her  playmates  in  all  childish  games,  and 
when  alone,  played  with  her  dolls." 

All  this  tirne  Blaise  was  keeping  up  his  studies,  and 
distinguishing  himself  as  much  in  science  as  Jacque- 
line in  verse. 

A  girl  as  bright  as  she  could  not  have  been  an 
uninterested  looker-on  at  her  brother's  investigations 
and  achievements. 

We  may  safely  conclude  that  the  favorite  little 
sister  was  not  far  away,  during  his  experiments  on 
the  nature  of  sound  when  he  was  about  eleven  years 


Poetry  and  Geo77tetry.  23 

old.  One  day  at  table  some  one  struck  a  china  plate 
with  a  knife,  producing,  of  course,  a  resonant  vibra- 
tion. But  when  a  hand  was  placed  on  the  plate  the 
vibration  suddenly  ceased.  "  Why  is  this  ?  "  asks  the 
youthful  philosopher,  for  "  his  earliest  search,"  says 
his  sister  Gilberte,  "  is  for  tj'utJi.  He  must  always 
.have  a  reason  that  will  satisfy  his  mind,  and  if  none 
such  is  given  him,  he  will  not  rest  till  he  finds  one  for 
himself." 

The  answers  of  his  elders,  in  the  matter  of  the 
plate,  did  not  satisfy  him,  and  henceforth  began  a 
series  of  experfments  on  the  laws  *of  sound  more 
systematic,  if  not  less  tuneful,  than  those  of  most 
boys  of  elever!,  on  the  same  subject.  In  the  course 
of  a  few  weeks  he  had  noticed  so  many  interesting 
facts  that  he  wrote  a  treatise  on  the  subject,  which 
has  been  found  by  scientific  men  to  be  tout  a  fait  biert 
raissojind. 

A  year  later  the  boy  was  engaged  in  his  famous 
geometrical  investigations. 

The  story  is,'  that  seeing  his  strong  bent  toward 
mathematics,  his  father  had  purposely  led  his  mind 
to  other  subjects,  and,  in  fact,  at  last  prohibited  the 
study  of  geometry  till  after  he  had  perfected  himself 
in  Latin  and  Greek.  He  gave  him,  however,  in 
answer  to  repeated  questions,  the  bare  definition  of 
the  science  as  one  that  treated  of  "  forms  and  their 
proportions  and  relations  one  to  another." 


24  Sister  and  Saint. 

On  that  hint  Blaise  went  to  work.  In  his  hours  of 
recreation  he  meditated  on  forms,  and  began  to  draw 
figures  in  charcoal  on  the  walls  of  a  large  empty 
hall  which  had  been  given  the  children  as  a  play- 
room. He  made,  at  first,  perfect  circles,  exact  squares, 
and  then  a  triangle  whose  sides  and  whose  angles  were 
equal,  proving  each  step  as  he  went  along.  All  thi* 
was  without  a  hint  from  any  one,  and  he  did  not 
even  know  the  names  of  the  figures  he  drew.  He 
called  a  circle  "a  round,"  and  a  line  "a  bar." 

From  his  definitions  sprang  axioms,  and  from  these 
demonstrations,  and  going  from  step  to  step,  he  had 
pushed  his  researches  as  far  as  the  thirty-second 
proposition  of  the  first  book  of  Euclid  before  he  was 
discovered.  When  his  father  found  him  proving  that 
"  the  three  angles  of  a  triangle  are  together  equal  to 
two  right  angles,"  his  question  was,  What  had  made 
him  think  of  that?  Oh,  it  followed  from  that  ether, 
said  the  boy ;  and  the  same  question  being  asked  in 
regard  to  that  other,  it  was  found  that  that  followed 
from  another  earlier  discovered  truth.  And,  in  this 
way,  tracing  his  way  back  to  first  principles,  his 
father  saw  how  he  had  actually  built  up  the  science 
for  himself  out  of  a  single  definition. 

As  might  be  supposed,  M.  Pascal  after  this  thought 
it  right  to  remove  the  restriction  on  geometry,  and 
gave  his  son  a  copy  of  Euclid's  "  Elements"  for  light 
reading.    He  insisted  still,  however,  on  the  languages 


Poetry  and  Geometry.  25 

as  the  principal  and  most  serious  work.  But  such 
was  the  boy's  delight  in  mathematics  that  he  con- 
tinued to  prove  and  even  to  compose  propositions  for 
his  own  amusement. 

After  a  time  his  father  occasionally  took  him  to 
the  weekly  meeting  of  scientific  friends,  out  of  which 
association  the  celebrated  "  Academy  of  Sciences  " 
afterward  grew.  Descartes,  Roberval,  Pailleur,  and 
others  whose  names  are  familiar  to  the  scientist  were 
members  of  this  circle  and  habitues  of  M.  Pascal's 
house.  At  these  meetings  the  boy  Pascal  is  said  to 
have  held  his  own  in  solving  problems  sent  from 
similar  associations  in  Italy,  Germany,  Holland,  and 
other  countries,  and  in  offering  original  problems  for 
solution,  and  so  clear  and  quick  was  his  intellect  that 
he  often  discovered  mistakes  which  no  one  else  had 
noticed.  Sometimes  he  read  short  essays  of  his  own, 
and  about  the  time  Jacqueline's  verses  were  pub- 
lished, he  wrote  in  Latin  a  treatise  on  Conic  Sec- 
tions, which  was  considered  very  remarkable.  Gil- 
berte  reports :  "  It  was  said  that  since  the  time  of 
Archimedes,  nothing  of  such  strength  had  appeared. 
People  skilled  in  such  things  said  that  it  was  a  con- 
tribution of  permanent  value  to  science,  and  thought 
it  should  certainly  be  published.  But  my  brother  had 
no  desire  for  reputation.  He  took  no  interest  in  the 
matter,  and  it  was  never  printed." 
2 


THE  CARDINAL  FROWNS  ;  THE 
CARDINAL  SMILES. 


III. 


THE  CARDINAL  FROWNS;    THE   CARDINAL  SMILES. 


THE  Pascals,  one  would  say,  were  now  at  the 
very  highest  point  of  prosperity.  They  had 
wealth  and  position.  They  had  the  friend- 
ship of  Royalty.  They  had  the  most  congenial  in- 
'timate  friends,  and  a  wide  circle  of  distinguished  ac- 
quaintance in  the  most  brilliant  city  of  the  world. 
The  son  and  heir  was  already  giving  extraordinary 
promise  of  remarkable  and  varied  capacities — fairly 
on  his  way  to  the  place  Sir  William  Hamilton  gives 
him  as  "  a  miracle  of  universal  genius.'.'  The  daugh- 
ters seem  endowed  with  loveliness  and  talent  in 
equal  parts.  Surely  M.  Pascal  ought  to  have  been  a 
proud  and  happy  man ! 

This  prosperity,  moreover,  was  accompanied  by 
that  which  alone  makes  other  good  things  worth 
having.  The  glitter  of  the  world  seems  never  to 
have  dazzled  these  wise  people,  even  when  they  en- 
joyed it  most.    They  saw  about  them  many  false  and 

(29) 


2,0  Sister  and  Saint. 

hollow  lives,  many  low  ambitions,  many  weak,  if 
not  evil  characters.  And  these  all  were  surrounded 
by  that  bewildering  halo — worldly  success.  But  the 
Pascals  looked  calmly  on  !  They  had  before  their 
eyes  a  vastly  higher  ideal  of  life  and  of  success. 
They  walked  in  the  world,  but,  to  a  wonderful  de- 
gree, they  "kept  unspotted."  They  were,  in  fact, 
possessed  of  true  nobility,  and  baseness,  although 
they  touched  it,  could  not  cling  to  them. 

Later,  religious  devotion  became  their  most  prom- 
inent characteristic.  Now,  great  mental  activity  was 
predominant.  Yet,  even  at  this  time,  a  writer  of  the 
day  tells  us  that  they  were  always  regarded  as  "  un- 
usually religious  people.  In  this  respect  they  took 
the  lead  of  the  society  in  which  they  moved."  But 
the  Pascals  were  going  on — still  higher !  and  great 
heights  are  not  scaled  without  difficulty. 

France  just  now  was  at  war  with  Spain,  and  the 
cardinal  was  in  need  of  money.  No  easier  way  to 
get  it  than  to  take  it  from  the  pockets  of  loyal  Paris- 
ians !  And  where  this  could  not  be  done  with  a  show 
of  legality  it  could  be  done,  and  was  done,  by  arbi- 
trary seizure  of  private  property. 

M.  Pascal  was  one  of  many  who  suffered  in  this 
way.  His  property,  at  this  time,  consisted  largely  of 
shares  in  the  Hotel  de  Ville,  and  his  income,  of 
course,  was  much  reduced  when  Richelieu  seized 
these  bonds.     He  was  not  a  man  to  take  injustice 


The  Cardinal  Frowns  ;  the  Cardinal  Smiles.  31 

without  an  attempt  at  setting  himself  right.  With 
others  among  the  principal  stockholders  he  remon- 
strated, appearing  before  the  Chancellor  of  the  city  to 
make  complaint,  in  March,  1638.  The  Chancellor, 
frightened,  went  to  Richelieu,  and  Richelieu  ordered 
the  malcontents  arrested  and  sent  to  the  Bastile. 

M.  Pascal  escaped  this  fate,  but  only  by  flight.  He 
traveled  incognito  to  his  old  home  in  Auvergne,  and 
shortly  after  he  left  Paris  the  halberdiers  came  to 
look  for  him  and  were  shown  by  Gilberte  all  over  the 
house.  "  He  had  been  much  comforted,"  writes  Gil- 
berte, "  under  this  afifliction  by  Jacqueline's  endearing 
ways.     He  loved  her  with  unusual  tenderness." 

The  father  remained  away  through  the  whole  sum- 
mer, but  in  September  he  forgot  all  fear  and  hastened 
home  again.  His  little  daughter,  Jacqueline,  was 
seized  with  small-pox. 

"  Let  the  risk  be  what  it  might,"  says  the  family 
chronicler,  "  my  father  said  he  must  then  be  at  home 
in  order  to  watch  with  his  own  eyes  the  course  of  her 
illness.  And  in  reality  he  never  left  her  for  a  mo- 
ment, not  even  sleeping  out  of  her  room." 

It  was  a  long  and  serious  case,  and  though  the  little 
girl  recovered  after  many  anxious  weeks,  "  her  coun- 
tenance w^as  quite  disfigured,  and  she  did  not  leave 
the  house  during  the  whole  winter,  not  being  fit  to 
appear  in  company.  She  was  then  thirteen,  old 
enough  to  value  beauty,  and  to  regret  its  loss.    And 


32  Sister  a7id  Saint. 

yet,  this  mischance  did  not  in  the  least  trouble  her ;  on 
the  contrary,  she  considered  it  a  mercy,  and  in  some 
verses  composed  as  a  thank-offering  for  recovery,  she 
said  that  her  pitted  face  seemed  to  her  the  guardian 
of  her  innocence,  and  these  traces  of  disease  certain 
signs  that  God  would  keep  her  from  evil.  Though 
she  was  confined  to  the  house,  her  time  did  not  hang 
heavily,  for  she  was  busy  with  her  trinkets  and 
dolls." 

The  stanzas  alluded  to — "  thanking  God  for  recov- 
ery from  the  small-pox" — are  rather  sad  for  a  little 
girl  of  thirteen,  and  not  remarkably  pretty.  But  their 
spirit  is  very  sweet.  These  three  verses  will  serve  as 
a  sample : 

"  All  men,  great  God,  may  see 
Thy  pure  benignity 

To  one  so  weak  and  worn ; 
Without  Thy  loving  aid 
Thus  wondrously  displayed. 
My  life  had  faded  in  its  April  morn. 

"  When,  in  the  mirror,  I 
Scars  of  mine  illness  spy, 

Those  hollow  marks  attest 
The  heart-rejoicing  truth. 
That  I  am  Thine,  in  sooth, 
For  Thou  dost  chasten  whom  Thou  lovest  best. 

"  I  take  them  for  a  brand 
That,  Master,  Thy  kind  hand 

Would  on  my  forehead  leave. 


The  Cardinal 'Frowns ;  the  Cardinal  Smiles.  33 

Mine  innocence  to  show  : — 
And  shall  I  murmur?     No. 
While  Thy  rod  comforts  me  I  will  not  grieve." 

As  soon  as  Jacqueline's  recovery  was  secure,  M. 
Pascal  was  obliged  to  exile  himself  once  more. 
Whether  the  cardinal  had  been  aware  of  his  return, 
and  with  a  little  softening  remembrance  of  the  pretty- 
children  he  had  noticed  in  his  audience-chamber,  had 
winked  at  the  fact,  or  whether  the  Pascals  had  suc- 
ceeded in  eluding  his  vigilance,  we  do  not  know.  At 
any  rate,  they  seem  to  have  been  entirely  unmolested, 
and,  in  spite  of  Jacqueline's  sad  illness,  to  have  passed 
many  happy  moments  together. 

But  as  soon  as  danger  was  over  their  father  left 
them  and  spent  the  winter  in  Clermont.  Some  of 
the  letters  that  passed  between  him  and  the  children 
have  been  preserved,  and  toward  spring  there  was 
truly  something  worth  writing  about. 

The  cardinal  had  taken  a  fancy  to  have  a  little  play 
acted  before  him,  and  Jacqueline  had  been  invited  to 
take  part  in  it ! 

From  this  it  would  seem  that  the  little  girl  must 
have  been  getting  better  fast,  and  that  she  was  not 
so  seriously  disfigured  by  her  illness  as  was  appre- 
hended at  first.  Gilberte  objects  to  her  taking  part 
in  the  play,  not  on  the  ground  of  health,  but  from  a 
very  natural  unwillingness  to  favor  Richelieu. 

"  The  cardinal  has  not  been  so  kind  to  us  as  to 
2* 


34  Sister  and  Saint. 


lead  us  to  take  any  pains  for  his  pleasure,"  she  an- 
swered proudly,  when  the  Duchess  d'Aiguillon  came 
to  ask  for  Jacqueline's  services. 

The  Duchess 'd'Aiguillon  was  Richelieu's,  niece. 
She  was  a  kind-hearted  woman,  and  to  her  kindness 
she  added  a  ready  tact  in  humoring  her  uncle,  which 
often  enabled  her  to  procure  favors  for  those  who 
had  suffered  by  him.  She  knew,  of  course,  all  about 
the  Pascals,  and  she  saw  a  possible  chance  of  M. 
Pascal's  forgiveness  and  recall,  if  his  little  daughter 
should  succeed  in  pleasing  the  cardinal. 

On  that  ground  she  urged  Gilberte  to  give  her  con- 
sent, and  promised,  meanwhile,  to  use  every  oppor- 
tunity that  presented  itself  of  speaking  a  good  word 
for  her  father.  Gilberte  still  hesitated,  but  after  ask- 
ing the  advice  of  some  of  her  father's  best  friends 
she  yielded,  and  Jacqueline  forthwith  began  to  study 
her  part.  It  is  mentioned,  as  a  proof  of  the  cardi- 
nal's false  taste,  that  this  play  was  not  one  of  the 
masterpieces  of  French  art,  but  a  second-rate  epheme- 
ral tragi-comedy.  What  part  Jacqueline  took  we  do 
not  know,  but  whatever  it  was,  with  so  much  at  stake, 
she  would  be  sure  to  enter  into  it  with  all  her  heart ; 
moreover,  she  conceived  the  idea  of  playing  a  little 
private  role  of  her  own,  and  at  once  set  her  wits  to 
work  as  to  the  best  way  of  presenting  that. 

Her  weU-beloved  talent  for  verse-making  came  to 
her  aid,  a.id  she  composed  and  committed  to  memory 
the  following  lines : 


The  Cardinal  Frowns  ;  the  Cardinal  Smiles.  35 

"  O  mangel  not,  Armand*,  the  great,  the  wise. 
If  I  have  slightly  pleased  thine  ear — thine  eyes ; 
My  sorrowing  spirit  torn  by  countless  fears, 
Each  sound  forbiddeth  save  the  voice  of  tears ; 
With  power  to  please  thee,  wouldst  thou  me  inspire — 
Recall  from  exile,  now,  my  hapless  sire." 

The  play  came  off  on  the  evening  of  the  third  of 
April,  1639,  in  Richelieu's  palace  at  Ruel. 

"Jacqueline  put  into  her  action,"  says  the  Abbe 
Bossut,  "  a  grace  and  a  finesse  which  '  carried  away ' 
all  the  spectators,  especially  the  cardinal  himself,  and 
she  had  the  adroitness  to  profit  by  this  moment  of 
enthusiasm." 

The  rest  of  the  story  we  will  let  Jacqueline  herself 
tell  in  a  letter  she  wrote  her  father  the  next  day  : 

"  M.  le  cardinal  appeared  to  take  great  pleasure  in 
the  representation,  especially  when  I  spoke.  He 
laughed  very  much  and  so  did  the  whole  company. 
When  the  play  was  finished,  I  came  down  from  the 
stage  to  speak  to  Madame  dAiguillon. 

"  But  as  the  cardinal  seemed  about  to  leave,  I  went 
up  to  him  at  once,  and  recited  to  him  the  verses  I 
send  you.  He  received  them  with  extraordinary 
affection  and  caresses,  more  than  you  can  imagine. 
At  first,  when  he  saw  me  coming,  he  called  out, 
*  Voila  la  petite  Pascal ! '  Then  he  embraced  me 
and  kissed  me,  and"  while  I  said  my  verses,  he  con- 
tinued to  hold  me  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  me  almost 


*Armand  is  Richelieu's  family  name. 


36  Sister  and  Saint. 


every  minute  with  great  satisfaction.  And  then, 
when  I  was  done,  he  said, '  Yes,  I  grant  to  you  all  that 
you  ask ;  write  to  your  father  that  he  can  return  with 
safety.' 

"  Thereupon  Madame  d'Aiguillon  approached,  and 
spoke  to  the  cardinal.  '  Truly  it  would  be  well,  sir, 
that  you  should  do  something  for  this  gentleman.  I 
have  heard  him  spoken  of  as  a  thoroughly  honorable 
and  learned  man,  and  it  is  a  pity  he  should  be  useless 
to  the  government.  Then  he  has  a  son  who  is  very 
learned  in  mathematics,  though  only  fifteen  years  old.' 

"  The  cardinal  again  assured  me  that  I  might  tell 
you  to  return  in  all  safety ;  and  as  he  seemed  in  such 
good  humor,  I  asked  him  further,  if  you  might  come 
yourself  to  pay  your  thanks  and  respects  to  his  emi- 
nence. He  said  you  would  be  welcome ;  and  after- 
wards, while  talking  of  something  else,  he  repeated, 
*  Tell  your  father  when  he  returns,  to  come  and  see 
me. '     This  he  said  three  or  four  times. 

"  After  this,  as  Madame  d'Aiguillon  was  going 
away,  my  sister  went  forward  to  take  leave  of  her. 
She  received  her  with  many  caresses,  and  inquired 
for  our  brofclier,  whom  she  said  she  wished  to  know. 
So  he  was  introduced  to  the  duchess,  and  she  paid 
him  many  compliments  on  his  scientific  attainments. 

"  We  were  then  conducted  to  a  room  where  we  had 
a  magnificent  collation  of  dried  sweetmeats,  lemon- 
ade, fruits,  and  such  things. 


The  Car dmal  Frowns  ;  the  Cardinal  S7niles.  t,j 

"  Here  the  duchess  renewed  her  caresses  in  a  manner 
you  will  hardly  believe.  In  short,  I  can  not  tell  you 
how  much  honor  I  received,  for  I  am  obliged  to  write 

as  briefly  as  possible As  for  me,  I  feel  myself 

extremely  happy  to  have  in  any  way  assisted  in  a  re- 
sult which  must  give  you  satisfaction.  It  is  what  has 
always  been  the  passionate  wish  of,  M.  my  father, 
your  very  humble  and  obedient  daughter  and  servant 

"  Pascal." 

After  a  long  winter  of  convalescence  in  the  house, 
more  or  less  tedious  even  with  trinkets  and  dolls  to 
beguile  the  time,  this  evening  of  brilliant  success,  of 
"  sweetmeats  and  lemonade,"  above  all,  of  the  accom- 
plishment of  her  dearest  hopes,  must  have  been  a 
wonderful  thing  to  the  little  girl. 

Gilberte  tells  the  story  a  little  differently,  and  ac- 
cepting Cousin's  opinion  that  "  nothing  should  be 
neglected  which  will  help  us  to  become  acquainted 
with  this  remarkable  family,"  we  give  her  version 
also : 

"After  the  play  Jacqueline  came  down  to  go  with 
Madame  de  Saintot  to  the  duchess,  who  was  going  to 
present  her  to  the  cardinal ;  but  Madame  de  Saintot 
loitered,  and  seeing  M.  le  cardinal  rise  as  if  to  retire, 
Jacqueline  ran  up  to  him  all  alone.  When  he  saw 
her  coming  he  sat  down  again,  took  her  on  his 
knees,  and  when  he  kissed  her  again  and  again,  she 


38  Sister  and  Saint. 

began  to  weep.  He  asked  her  what  was  the  matter. 
Then  she  said  her  verse  which  Madame  d'Aiguillon 
followed  with  many  obliging  words  ;  upon  which  M. 
le  cardinal  said  that  he  would  grant  the  return  of  her 
father.  Then  this  little  one,  all  of  herself,  without 
any  one  knowing  that  she  had  thought  of  it,  said : 
*  My  lord,  I  have  still  one  favor  to  ask  of  your  emi- 
nence.' M.  le  cardinal  was  so  captivated  with  the 
delicacy  of  this  little  liberty  that  he  answered :  'Ask 
anything  you  wish,  I  will  give  it  you.'  She  said  to 
him  :  '  I  beg,  your  eminence,  that  my  father  may 
have  the  honor  of  doing  you  reverence  when  he  re- 
turns, and  of  thanking  you  for  the  favor  you  have 
done  us  to-night.'  The  cardinal  said :  '  I  not  only 
grant  it,  I  wish  it.  Tell  him  to  come  with  all  assur- 
ance, and  to  bring  his  family  with  him.'  " 

Gilberte  simply  adds  that  on  her  father's  return  he 
did  go  to  thank  the  cardinal,  and  took  them  all  with 
him.  But  another  account  tells  us  that  he  went  first 
without  his  family,  and  when  his  name  was  an- 
nounced Richelieu  inquired  if  the  gentleman  was 
alone.  Hearing  that  he  was,  the  servant  was  in- 
.  structed  to  tell  him  that  he  could  not  have  an  audi- 
ence till  he  came  accompanied  by  his  family.  The 
next  day  M.  Pascal  took  all  the  children  and  was 
most  graciously  received. 

The  cardinal  after  this  treated  him  "  handsomely," 
but  he  never  gave  liim  back  his  bonds. 


INTO    NORMANDY. 


IV. 


INTO  NORMANDY. 


a  YEAR  of  which  we  have  no  record  now 
passed — a  year,  probably,  of  quiet  happiness 
with  our  friends.  There  were  the  studies  to 
be  gone  on  with,  and  the  good  father  was  at  home  to 
be  once  more  their  teacher,  and,  though  they  were 
not  so  rich  as  they  once  had  been,  there  were  plenty 
of  pleasures  left. 

But  "  in  1640,"  writes  Gilberte,  "my  father,  having 
been  made  colleague  of  M.  de  Paris,  in  the  Intend- 
ancy  of  Normandy,  was  obliged  to  go  to  Rouen,  and 
soon  took  us  all  there  to  live  with  him." 

The  office  of  Intendant  was  much  like  that  of  coU 
lector  of  customs  with  us.  It  was  an  honorable  posi- 
tion, and  a  proof  of  Richelieu's  continued  friendliness. 
But  in  this  case  it  was  rather  a  difficult  post,  for 
Normandy  was  in  a  state  of  agitation  and,  in  some 
parts,  of  open  revolt.  A  new  system  of  taxation  had 
caused  an  insurrection  of  the  peasantry  in  the  neigh- 


42  Sister  a7id  Saint. 

borhood  of  Rouen,  the  rebels  had  defied  the  local 
authorities,  destroyed  the  custom-house,  and  murdered 
some  of  the  collectors. 

M.  Pascal  and  his  colleague  set  out  from  Paris  at- 
tended by  a  body  of  troops  under  Gassion,  who  is 
mentioned  as  a  fierce  man  and  a  noted  Calvinist.' 
On  their  entrance  into  Rouen  they  were  met  by  an 
excited  mob,  through  which  they  forced  their  way  in 
the  narrow  winding  streets,  not  without  some  blood- 
shed. 

It  was  not  an  easy  task  to  set  to  rights  the  public 
records  and  accounts,  and  the  wide-awake  Blaise  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  coming  to  his  father's  aid  by  the 
invention  of  a  calculating  machine.  The  notion  was 
timely  though  the  execution  was  not ;  for  it  was 
several  years  before  he  succeeded.  The  inventor's 
enthusiasm,  however,  never  flagged,  and  in  1649,  long 
after  the  necessity  which  had  originally  suggested  it 
was  past,  the  wonderful  little  instrument  was  pat- 
ented. It  was  the  parent  of  all  the  "  adders "  the 
world  has  since  seen,  and  about  as  useful,  practically, 
as  the  rest  of  them  have  proved.  "  The  construction 
of  such  a  machine,"  says  a  writer  in  the  North  British 
Review,  "  was  a  much  more  troublesome  task  than  its 
contrivance,  and  Pascal  not  only  injured  his  constitu- 
tion, but  wasted  the  most  valuable  portion  of  his 
life  in  his  attempts  to  bring  it  to  perfection." 

The   father's  work,  meanwhile,  as  we  have  said, 


Into  Normandy.  43 


was  done.  And  it  was  well  done.  M.  Pascal's  ac- 
curacy and,  above  all,  his  strict  integrity  in  this  diffi- 
cult business  is  matter  of  comment  on  the  part  of 
more  than  one  writer.  He  forbade  his  subordinates 
to  accept  the  smallest  gratuity,  and  discharged  his 
secretary,  a  relative,  for  receiving  a  louis  d'or. 

As  soon  as  Rouen  was  reduced  to  order,  the  family 
came  to  join  their  father,  and  here,  in  the  same  year, 
Gilberte  was  married  to  Florin  Perier,  a  distant 
cousin  of  her  father's.  After  her  marriage  she  re- 
mained two  years  in  Rouen,  and  then  returned  to  the 
old  home  at  Clermont.  The  other  lived  seven  or 
eight  years  in  Rouen  ;  and  for  Jacqueline,  opening 
womanhood  here  seems  as  full  of  brilliant  promise  as 
childhood  in  Paris, 

Rouen  was,  and  is,  a  most  interesting  city.  Every- 
body stops  there  a  few  hours  in  making  the  journey 
between  London  and  Paris.  Everybody  knows  it  as 
the  most  accessible  clustering  point  of  many  fine 
specimens  of  rich  mediaeval  Norman  architecture. 
But  when  the  city's  five  hundred  bells  pealed  out 
on  festival  mornings  in  1640,  and  Jacqueline  Pascal 
threaded  her  way  among  churches  and  towers  through 
the  narrow  streets  to  early  Mass,  a  charm  more  sa- 
cred possessed  her  heart  than  that  which  can  thrill 
the  modern  tourist  at  the  same  sound.  The  beauti- 
ful cathedral,  with  its  glowing  windows  and  spring- 
mg  arches,  was  to  her  not  merely  a  sight  to  be  seen, — 


44  Sister  and  Saint. 

it  was  ''  none  other  than  the  house  of  God — the  gate 
of  heaven." 

Sometimes  Jacqueline  must  have  crossed  the  old 
fish-market,  and  stopped,  perhaps,  for  a  moment  be- 
side the  dripping  fountain.  The  spot  had  already  its 
history,  though  it  was  without  its  commemorative 
statue  and  its  present  inspiring  name  of  "  Place  de 
la  Pucelle."  And  there  must  have  come  to  Jacque- 
line a  nearer  and  more  vivid  thought  than  we  can. 
ever  have,  of  the  brave,  pure  girl  who,  two  hundred 
years  before,  had  there  suffered  at  the  stake  because 
she  would  not  swear  to  what  she  did  not  believe. 
Did  a  hint  of  what  would  one  day  be  asked  of  her- 
self ever  cross  Jacqueline's  mind?  And  did  a  subtle 
inspiration  of  candor,  enthusiasm,  and  courage  come 
to  her  from  the  speaking  stones  of  that  dingy  square  ? 
Undoubtedly; — for  of  such  unsuspected  influences  are 
molded  all  our  lives. 

Rouen  in  1640  was  interesting  not  only  from  asso- 
ciations of  the  past.  Its  condition  at  that  time  was 
flourishing,  its  business  good,  its  social  advantages 
next,  perhaps,  to  those  of  Paris.  Corneille  was  living 
there,  "  and  did  not  fail  to  visit  us  soon,"  says  Gil- 
berte. 

To  many  modern  readers,  the  name  of  Corneille  is 
associated  with  school  days — with  dictionar}^  and 
foot-notes  blurring,  rather  than  making  clear,  the 
b<=^auties  of  his  style.    It  is  a  little  hard  for  such  read- 


Into  Normandy.  45 

ers  to  realize  that  he  was  a  great  poet — the  Shake- 
speare of  France — the  father  of  the  French  classical 
drama.  His  greatest  work,  "  The  Cid,"  had  been 
published  in  1638,  and  he  was  at  the  height  of  his 
fame  when  the  Pascals  went  to  Rouen. 

The  rather  peculiar,  "  hasty-tempered  and  blunt " 
genius  conceived  a  great  liking  for  the  poetess  of 
fifteen  whose  youthful  fame  had  probably  preceded 
her.  "He  was  ravished,"  says  Gilberte,  "with  the 
things  which  my  sister  wrote,"  and  by  his  advice  she 
undertook  a  prize  poem.  ~  The  city,  according  to 
time-honored  custom,  awarded  a  prize  every  year  to 
the  writer  of  the  best  poem  on  "  The  Conception  of 
the  Virgin."-  Probably  Corneille  had  received  it  so 
often  that  he  was  thankful  to  find  a  possible  succes- 
sor. At  any  rate,  he  urged  Jacqueline  to  compete, 
^nd  her  effort,  with  others,  was  read  to  a  great  crowd 
in  the  market-place,  on  the  festival  celebrating  the 
dogma  in  question.  But  "  heedless,"  as  in  her  child- 
hood, "of  this  world's  praise,"  when  the  President  of 
Ceremonies  announced  the  awarding  of  the  prize  to 
Mdlle.  Jacqueline  Pascal,  the  successful  competitor 
was  not  to  be  found,  nor  had  she  sent  any  repre- 
sentative to  learn  the  decision.  Her  friend,  Corneille, 
however,  rose  and  gave  a  graceful  and  flattering  ad- 
dress of  thanks  in  her  name.  The  next  day  the  prize 
was  brought  to  her  house  with  drums,  trumpets,  and 
a  grand  procession,  "Yet,"  says  Gilberte,  "she  re- 


46  Sister  and  Saint. 

ceived  it  with  remarkable  indifference.  She  was  so 
very  simple  that,  though  she  was  then  fifteen  years 
old,  she  always  kept  dolls,  which  she  dressed  and  un- 
dressed with  as  much  pleasure  as  if  she  had  been  only 
ten.  We  used  to  reproach  her  with  this  childishness, 
and  we  did  so  so  much  that  at  last  she  was  obliged  to 
give  them  up,  though  not  without  pain ;  for  she 
loved  this  diversion  better  than  to  take  part  in  the 
grandest  fetes  in  the  city." 

After  Gilberte  and  her  husband  left  Rouen,  Jac- 
queline took  up  her  position  as  head  of  the  family, 
and  from  that  time  till  her  twenty-first  year  led  a  life 
of  cheerful  activity  which  is  pleasant  to  think  of. 
Her  brother's  health  now  became  delicate,  bringing 
out  sisterly  carefulness,  not,  as  yet,  exciting  grave 
anxiety.  She  studied  with  her  father  and  brother, 
and  read  more  history  and  philosophy  than  most  girls 
of  the  seventeenth  or  of  any  century.  And  under 
the  advice  of  her  friend  Corneille,  she  continued  to 
write  poetry.  Some  fugitive  pieces  of  this  period 
were  collected  after  her  death  by  her  niece,  Margaret 
Perier,  and  preserved  among  the  annals  of  Port  Royal, 
and  Cousin  has  given  us  a  few  others.  But  no  pub- 
lished collection  of  her  poems  during  her  lifetime 
followed  the  little  volume  of  her  thirteenth  year. 

We  give  two  or  three  short  specimens  of  verses 
written  at  Rouen : 


Into  Normandy.  47 


SERENADE. 

O  pure  and  lovely  Clarice,  rise, 

Bid  sleep  depart  from  those  sweet  eyes ! 

We  blame  thee  not,  that  through  the  day 
Thy  charms  should  drive  our  peace  away, 
Then  is  it  just  for  thee  to  sleep 
While  they  who  love  thee  vigil  keep  ? 

O  mark  the  sorrows  of  my  soul ! 
List  to  my  sighs,  and  then  console ; 
Or  if  thy  heart  I  can  not  gain. 
Lend  me  thine  ear  while  I  complain, 
And  since  thy  frowns  forbid  my  sleep. 
Share  thou  the  weary  watch  I  keep  ! 

DEVOTIONAL     SONNET. 

O  glorious  Architect  of  earth  and  sea, 

Yet  of  frail  man  the  Maker  and  the  stay. 
Here  at  Thine  altar's  foot  I  humbly  pray. 

Let  Thy  world-sheltering  love  encircle  me. 

Well  may  my  every  hope  be  built  on  Thee, 

For  I  can  hear,  unmoved,  the  thunder's  growl, 
Can  brave  e'en  demons  and  their  whispers  foul 

When  my  heart  trusteth  in  Thy  sure  decree. 

But,  ah  !  the  power  of  sin  o'erwhelms  my  frame. 
Frustrates  my  wishes,  makes  my  spirit  tame, 
And  dims  the  lustre  of  its  zealous  flame. 
Its  languor  pardon.  Lord  !  my  strength  uphold, 
Make  my  weak  nature  in  Thy  service  bold, 
Let  not  Thy  love  in  my  faint  heart  wax  cold  ! 

The  following  is  interesting,  as  showing  that  some 
of  Jacqueline's  associates  must  have  been  Protestants. 


48  Sister  and  Saint. 

Poor  girl !  It  is  touching  to  see  how  she  struggles 
between  a  natural  affection  for  a  lovely  character  and 
a  horror  of  heretical  doctrine : 

ON  THE  DEATH  OF  A  HUGUENOT  LADY. 

Friendly  tears  were  never  shed 
O'er  a  lovelier  lady  dead  : 
Chloris  was,  in  form  and  face, 
Gifted  with  angelic  grace  ; 
But  in  youth's  enchanting  bloom, 
Fate  has  laid  her  in  the  tomb. 

We  have  deeper  cause  to  groan 
O'er  her  state  a  shade  is  thrown  ; 
Anxious  doubts  our  spirits  chafe 
As  we  ask,  "  Can  she  be  safe  ? — 
She  who  died,  remaining  still 
A  heretic  in  act  and  will  ?  " 

Doubt  not,  in  the  dying  hour. 

That  her  strengthened  soul  had  power, 

By  afHictions  purified, 

Every  weight  to  cast  aside, — ■ 

Light  celestial  entering  in. 

That  she  meekly  owned  her  sin. 

And,  O  Lord,  if  earthly  love 

Can  Thy  tender  pity  move, 

Hear  the  prayers  we'll  henceforth  make 

In  Thy  temple  for  her  sake 

Whom  Thou  didst  create  so  fair, 

But  who  never  worshiped  there. 

Her  ill-fated  birth  alone 
Caused  the  errors  we  bemoan  ; 
Blinded  by  her  zeal's  excess. 
And  her  filial  tenderness. 


Into  Normandy.  49 

Td  the  last  she  persevered 
In  the  faith  her  sire  revered. 

Thou  didst  on  her  spirit  shower 
Heavenly  gifts,  the  precious  dower 
Of  the  souls  that  love  Thee  best ; — 
Calm  devotion  filled  her  breast, 
And  the  flame  of  sacred  love 
Raised  her  hopes  to  Thee  above. 

Day  by  day  her  dearest  care 
Was  to  serve  her  Lord  by  prayer. 
Could  her  faith  so  fruitful  be 
If  it  were  not  given  of  Thee  ? 
Shall  the  zeal  Thou  didst  bestow 
Sink  her  in  eternal  woe-? 

In  my  dim  and  sinful  state, 
Lord,  I  dare  not  penetrate 
Secrets  that  Thy  wisdom  hides. 
But  Thy  goodness  yet  abides ; — 
And  Thine  equitable  will 
Is  with  mercy  tempered  still. 


Doubtless  Jacqueline  already  took  a  lively  interest 
in  the  great  religious  questions  which  then  agitated 
France  and,  indeed,  all  Europe.  She  could  not  have 
failed  often  to  hear  them  discussed.  At  that  time, 
and  for  about  twenty  years  afterward,  the  Huguenots 
were  tolerated,  and  many  of  the  noblest  families  of 
the  land  openly  avowed  the  reformed  faith.  Yet 
though  treated  with  an  outward  show  of  respect  they 
were  never  cordially  regarded  or  fairly  dealt  with  by 
either  Church  or  Court.  At  the  bottom  of  all  politi- 
3 


50  Sister  and  Saint. 


cal  turbulence  boiled  always  these  fierce  religious 
disputes,  and  now  and  then  all  other  issues  would  be 
forgotten  and  overwhelmed  in  their  fury.  Catholic 
and  Huguenot  armies  had,  for  a  century,  in  turn  dev- 
astated the  land.  And  even  when  times  were  most 
peaceful  the  great  questions,  in  one  shape  or  other, 
were  working  in  men's  minds.  With  Luther  on  one 
side  and  Calvin  on  the  other,  France  could  not  escape 
these  questions.  Even  the  Church  could  not  remain 
uninfluenced,  and  consciously  or  unconsciously,  in 
small  or  in  great  degree,  and  with  a  thousand  vary- 
ing shades  of  understanding,  faithful  Catholics  were 
weighing  the  new  thoughts,  looking  at  truth  in  the 
new  ways.  Little  did  Jacqueline  Pascal  guess  how 
near  her  the  leaven  was  working ! 

Cousin,  referring  to  these  years  in  Rouen,  says  of 
our  heroine  :  '■'■  Her  personal  attractions,  her  charming 
character,  her  modesty,  her  sprightliness,  her  talents, 
her  reputation,  made  her  the  ornament  of  all  the  most 
elegant  and  distinguished  society.  She  lived  there 
till  the  middle  of  1646,  that  is  to  say,  till  she  was 
twenty  years  old,  pious  and  regular,  but  without  any 
exaggeration  of  these  traits,  far  from  the  thought  of 
becoming  a  nun,  more  than  once  sought  in  marriage, 
increasing  in  grace  and  in  talent  under  the  fostering 
wings  of  an  incomparable  family,  among  the  friends 
of  her  father  and  her  brother,  and  under  the  imme- 
diate guidance  of  the  great  Corneille,  who  was  then 


Into  Normajidy.  51 


in  all  the  force  of  his  genius  and  in  the  full  brilliancy 
of  his  glory." 

Gilberte  affectionately  reviews  the  same  period  in 
these  words : 

*'The  reputation  which  she  had  acquired  by  the 
* gentillesses '  of  her  childhood  did  not  diminish  as  she 
grew  older ;  on  the  contrary,  it  went  on  always  aug- 
menting. She  had  the  great  qualities  of  every  period 
of  life.  She  was  popular  with  all  sorts  of  people, 
and  those  who  were  not  intimate  with  her  sought  her 
acquaintance  most  eagerly.  When  she  appeared  in 
any  company,  you  could  see  how  every  one  rejoiced 
at  her  coming,  and  a  little  murmur  of  pleasure  would 
rise  ;  atid  she  always  satisfied  those  who  expected  some- 
thing pleasant  of  her." 


A    FLEMISH    BISHOP. 


V. 


A  FLEMISH  BISHOP. 


aND  now  let  us  turn  away  from  Rouen  for  a 
time  and  look  across  low-lying  fields  and  slow, 
broad  streams,  into  a  quiet  bishop's  study  in 
Flanders.  A  little  backward  in  time  our  glance  must 
go,  for,  in  1638,  that  spring  after  Jacqueline  Pascal 
had  played  her  part  so  well  before  Richelieu,  this 
bishop,  Cornelius  Jansen,  died.  Probably  she  had  never 
heard  of  him  at  that  time ;  but  two  years  afterward 
all  Europe  began  to  ring  with  his  name,  for  his  great 
book,  the  work  of  his  life — the  "  Augustinus  " — was 
then  published.  Twenty  years  the  patient  scholar 
had  labored  on  this  work,  till  the  very  life  and 
essence  of  his  being  seemed  absorbed  into  it,  and  the 
day  he  wrote  the  final  page  was  the  day  of  his  death. 
Jansen  was  born  in  1585,  and  educated  for  the 
priesthood  at  the  Jesuit  college  of  Louvain.  There, 
when  nineteen  years  old,  he  stood  "  first  scholar  of 
the  university,"  and  always  and  everywhere  scholar- 

(55) 


56  Sister  mid  Saint. 

ship  was  his  most  prominent  characteristic.  He  was 
one  of  those  men  who  never  look  Hke  themselves 
unless  they  have  a  book  under  their  arm.  His  ''dear 
delight  "  was  patient  investigation,  comparison,  criti- 
cism. His  mind  was  not  eager  and  grasping  like 
Blaise  Pascal's,  but  careful,  searching,  microscopic. 

In  youth  Jansen  formed  a  lifelong  friendship  with 
a  young  Frenchman  from  Bayonne — Jean  du  Verger 
de  Hauranne,  afterward  Abbe  de  St.  Cyran,  and 
known  in  history  by  that  name. 

At  Paris  the  friends  studied  theology  together , 
and,  to  their  surprise,  they  found  theology  to  mean, 
not  the  science  of  God,  but  the  writings  of  the  school- 
men, endless  and  fruitless  disputations,  subtle  casuis- 
tries, all  sorts  of  intellectual  puzzles  and  paradoxes. 
Both  of  the  young  men  were  fond  of  such  mental 
gymnastics,  and  we  have  specimens  of  disquisitions 
written  by  each  at  about  this  time  which  seem  to  any 
straightforward,  clear-thinking  person  the  sheerest 
waste  of  the  reasoning  powers.  But  the  minds  of 
Jansen  and  St.  Cyran  were  not  only  acute;  they 
were  earnest,  sincere,  devout.  They  soon  saw  that  all 
this  tilting  and  tourneying  was  but  a  sorry  mockery 
of  true  Christian  warfare.  They  longed  for  some- 
thing that  went  deeper ;  and  Jansen,  walking  in  his 
garden,  was  often  observed  to  lift  his  eyes  to  heaven 
and  murmur,  "  Oh,  truth  !  truth  !  " 

The  friends  made  up  their  minds  that  pure  doctrine 


A  Flemish  Bishop.  57 

could  only  be  obtained  by  going  back  to  the  Fathers 
of  the  Church.  And  they  went  back — as  far  as  St. 
Augustine !  If  only  it  had  occurred  to  them  to  go 
a  little  farther  !  If  only  they  had  reached  the  purer 
streams  fed  more  directly  from  the  Fountain !  If 
only  they  had  pushed  their  way  to  the  ''well  of 
water  "  itself,  and  there  drunk  of  the  Truth  for  which 
they  thirsted ! 

However,  they  went  back  to  St.  Augustine,  and 
after  leaving  Paris,  Jansen  made  a  six  years'  visit  to 
his  friend  at  Bayonne,  where  they  pursued  together 
the  study  of  their  chosen  author,  Jansen's  health  was 
most  delicate  and  precarious,  but  he  would  pay  no  at- 
tention to  his  poor  body.  He  studied  almost  without 
ceasing,  seldom  going  to  bed,  his  biographers  tell  us, 
but  passing  day  and  night  in  a  large  chair,  fitted  up 
with  cushions  and  writing-desk.  Here,  when  fatigue 
overcame  him,  he  would  rest  and  sleep  for  a  time. 
His  maximum  of  sleep  was  four  hours  out  of  the 
twenty-four. 

"  My  son,"  complained  St.  Cyran's  careful  mother, 
"you  will  certainly  kill  your  good  Fleming  if  you  let 
him  work  so  hard."  But  neither  St.  Cyran  nor  his 
mother  could  help  it. 

The  student's  only  answer  to  remonstrance  was 
that  he  wished  he  had  lived  in  the  time  of  Joshua, 
when  "  the  sun  stood  still  in  the  midst  of  heaven," 
or  that  he  could  "  follow  the  cranes  in  their  north- 


58  Sister  and  Saint. 

ward  flight  and  find  places  where  the  day  should  be 
nineteen  or  twenty  hours  long." 

It  is  a  comfort  to  know  that,  between  the  chapters 
of  St.  Augustine,  he  allowed  himself  a  game  of  bat- 
tledore and  shuttlecock  with  St.  Cyran,  and  that  they 
attained  great  proficiency,  sometimes  scoring  three  or 
four  thousand. 

At  the  end  of  six  years  the  friends  separated.  Jan- 
sen  went  home  to  Flanders  to  take  a  professorship  at 
Louvain,  and  aftenvard  the  bishopric  of  Ypres.  At 
the  same  time  he  worked  constantly  on  his  beloved 
"  Augustinus."  Ten  times,  we  are  told,  he  carefully 
read  through  the  whole  body  of  St.  Augustine's 
works.  Thirty  times  he  read  certain  parts,  sifting, 
comparing,  nicely  weighing  every  word.  Besides  all 
this,  he  thoroughly  studied  every  passage  throughout 
the  voluminous  works  of  the  other  Fathers  which 
bore  in  the  least  on  the  doctrines  of  St.  Augustine. 
Truly,  as  the  annalist  of  Port  Royal  temperately  re- 
marks, "  when  we  consider  that  Jansenius  digested 
and  arranged  in  twenty  years  the  whole  mass  of  sa- 
cred literature  accumulated  in  thirteen  centuries,  it 
excites  astonishment ! " 

At  last,  at  the  end  of  the  twenty  years,  the  schol- 
ar's meagre  face  begins  to  shine.  For  some  days  his 
servants  notice  that  his  countenance  is  illumined  as 
with  a  great  joy.  He  is  putting  the  finishing  touches 
to  the  work  of  his  life.     He  is  crowning  the  idol  of 


A  Flemish  Bishop.  59 

his  heart.  "  The  burning  joy  consumes  him,"  says 
Sainte-Beuve.  He  writes  the  final  word.  He  is 
seized  with  the  plague  and  dies  in  less  than  twenty- 
four  hours.* 

His  will,  written  half  an  hour  before  his  death, 
thus  disposes  of  his  sole  treasure,  his  precious  book : 
"  I  now  lay  my  work  at  the  feet  of  his  Holiness.  I 
submit  its  contents  to  his  decision,  approving,  con- 
demning, advancing,  or  retracting  whatever  shall  be 
prescribed  by  the  thunders  of  the  Apostolic  See." 
And  so  Cornelius  Jansen  left  his  work  to  follow  him, 
and  went  on,  we  feel  sure,  to  study  more  glorious 
truth  than  his  heart  had  yet  conceived. 

The  world  will  always,  and  very  justly,  look  at 
Jansen  chiefly  as  a  scholar.  But  he  somewhat  touch- 
ingly  deprecates  being  thought  *'  a  mere  pedant  of 
the  schools,"  and  it  is  pleasant  to  see,  by  occasional 
flashes,  that  he  is  something  more.  Like  many  an- 
other silent,  bookish  man,  he  could  show  upon  occa- 
sion great  personal  bravery.  In  his  many  disputes 
with  the  Jesuits  he  displayed  an  address  and  sagacity 
that  surprised  his  best  friends.  What  is  more,  he 
usually  gained  his  point — a  fact  which  the  Jesuits 
never  forgot  and  never  forgave. 


*  One  account  eulogizes  Jansen's  courage  and  devotion  to  the 
poor  during  the  prevalence  of  the  plague  just  before  he  died.  But 
Sainte-Beuve  declares  his  to  have  been  an  isolated  instance  of  the 
disease,  and  suggests  that  it  may  have  been  communicated  by  some 
of  the  old  manuscripts  over  which  he  pored. 


6o  Sister  and  Saint. 

As  bishop  he  was  kind  and  accessible,  always  drop 
ping  his  pen  with  a  beautiful  alacrity  at  the  call  of 
the  poor  or  distressed. 

His  intimacy  with  St.  Cyran  reveals  beneath  the 
scholar's  quiet  breast  another  unsuspected  thing — a 
well  of  simple  tenderness,  pure  and  deep.  After  the 
long  stay  together  at  Bayonne,  Jansen  writes  to  his 
friend  that  when  the  first  letter  came  he  was  not 
alone,  and  was  forced  to  imitate  the  patriarch  Joseph 
and  "go  out  and  seek  where  to  weep."  After  another 
visit,  he  alludes  to  the  tears  each  shed  at  parting; 
and  again,  speaking  of  an  expected  meeting,  he  joy- 
fully says  that  he  is  traveling  toward  his  friend,  and 
has  arranged  to  "  enter  France  with  the  month  of 
May." 

An  earnestness  was  given  to  this  friendship  by  their 
common  choice  of  Abraham  as  their  model  character. 
During  their  studies  at  Paris,  they  had  been  struck 
by  the  sublimity  of  Abraham's  faith.  They  felt  hum- 
bled before  the  man  who,  without  the  Church,  with- 
out the  saints  and  Mary,  without  the  full  knowledge 
of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  without  even  the  Mosaic 
law,  had  so  nearly  attained  obedience  to  the  divine 
command,  "  Walk  before  me,  and  be  thou  perfect!' 

This  command  they  resolved  to  take  for  their  own, 

and  thus 

"  Aiming  at  a  star, 
Shot  higher  far  than  he  that  means  a  tree." 


A  Flemish  Bishop.  6i 

And  now  about  this  great  book  of  Cornelius  Jan- 
sen's — this  "  Augustinus."  How  many  of  us  have  ever 
seen  it,  or,  indeed,  heard  of  it  before  ?  Sainte-Beuve 
says  of  it,  that  "  no  book  of  its  calibre  ever  became  so 
famous,  while  remaining  so  little  known."  Another 
writer  speaks  of  it  as  "  celebrated  almost  alone  for  the 
evils  it  occasioned."  The  great  majority  of  those  who 
bore  the  name  of  Jansenist — gladly  bore  it  to  prison 
and  to  death  —  never  read  the  ponderous  tomes. 
Fewer  still  ever  saw  the  man  who  wrote  them. 
.  The  "Augustinus"  was  written  in  Latin,  and  was,  in 
short,  a  "tissue  of  texts  from  St.  Augustine."  These 
were  arranged  with  consummate  nicety  and  skill,  so 
as  to  bring  out  the  complete  system  of  the  Augustinian 
doctrines. 

It  is  not  for  this  little  book  of  ours  to  unfold  these 
doctrines.  Enough  for  us  to  know  that  they  are,  in 
effect,  the  system  known  to  us  as  Calvinism.  Enough 
for  us  to  see,  as  we  shall  see  in  going  on  with  this 
story,  that  the  Jansenists,  whatever  their  beliefs,  were 
"  a  fountain  of  sweet  waters  in  the  midst  of  the  brack- 
ish sea" — a  "  learned  and  religious  society  in  the  bo- 
som of  the  Catholic  Church,  who  distinctly  taught 
justification  by  faith,  and  were  assiduously  occupied 
in  the  dissemination  of  the  Scriptures."  Just  a  step 
more,  and  a  very  short  step,  too,  and  every  one  of 
them  would  have  become  that  accursed  thing,  a 
Huguenot ! 


62  Sister  and  Saint. 


Indeed,  as  we  shall  see,  they  did  come  near  enough 
this  point  to  take  their  share  of  persecution.  The 
Jesuits,  with  artifice  all  their  own,  distorted  and  ren- 
dered ambiguous  certain  parts  of  the  "  Augustinus," 
and  then  secured  their  condemnation  by  the  pope. 
They  dishonored  and  destroyed  the  author's  tomb. 
They  tortured  and  imprisoned  his  friends. 

Jansen's  was,  indeed,  a  singular  destiny !  To  give 
his  name  to,  and  be  condemned  for,  a  system  of  doc- 
trines not  his  own,  but  that  of  a  recognized,  canonized 
saint,  and  to  be  the  exciting  cause  of  bitter  strife  in 
which  he  took  no  part !  His  own  life,  as  we  have 
seen,  flowed  still  as  the  streams  of  his  native  land, 
and  when  the  billows  rose  he  was  safe  beyond  their 
power  in  his  eternal  Home. 


THE   DIRECTOR   OF   CONSCIENCES. 


rr^^'^^^^v 


VI. 


THE   DIRECTOR   OF   CONSCIENCES. 

• 
T.  CYRAN  was  a  very  different  man  from 

Jansen.  He  was  charged  to  the  full  with 
that  personal  magnetism  which  his  friend  ut- 
terly lacked.  He  was  a  man  of  commanding  pres- 
ence, "tall  and  majestic  in  form,"  his  biogt-aphers  tell 
us,  and  of  a  very"  noble  countenance. 

His  "  firm,  penetrating  eye,"  his  gentleness  and 
courtesy,  and  a  certain  elevation  in  his  manners,  com- 
bined to  render  him  almost  irresistible.  His  friends 
and  followers  were  full  of  admiring  enthusiasm  for 
him,  and,  as  they  admired,  he  "  silently,  but  cer- 
tainly" governed  them. 

When  Jansen  went  back  to  Flanders  after  their  six 
years'  visit  together  at  Bayonne,  St.  Cyran  went  to 
Poitiers,  where  he  was  appointed  canon  of  the 
cathedral.  He  passed  rapidly  from  one  honorable 
position  to  another,  the  last  being  the  abbacy  of  the 
monastery  which  gives  him  his  name.      But  in  five 

(65) 


66  Sister  and  Saint. 

years  from  the  time  he  left  Bayonne,  we  find  him  in 
Paris  Hving  the  life  of  a  simple  priest.  He  was  a 
man  of  wealth  and  could  live  as  he  chose,  and  he 
chose  retirement  and  simplicity.  But  greatness  pur- 
sued him  and  would  not  let  him  go.  He  soon  ac- 
quired reputation  and  influence  as  a  confessor,  or,  as 
he  much  preferred  to  be  called,  "  a  director  of  con- 
sciences." 

Cardinal  Richelieu  had  known  St.  Cyran  in  his 
youth,  and  he  was  keen  enough  to  recognize  now  all 
the  man's  power.  At  the  same  time  he  did  not  love 
him  any  too  well.  For  one  thing,  they  did  not  agree 
on  doctrinal  points.  Did  not  St.  Cyran  teach  that 
love  of  God  was  essential  to  true  faith,  while  Riche- 
lieu held  that  fear  of  punishment  was  all  that  was 
needed  ?  And  was  he  not  known  to  have  declared 
that  absolution  and  remission  of  sins  belong  to  God 
alone  ? 

Moreover,  it  is  said  that  St.  Cyran  knew  some  dis- 
reputable secrets  in  regard  to  the  cardinal's  life, 
which  that  prelate  might  well  prefer  not  to  have 
remembered  by  such  a  man.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, Richelieu  did  just  what  we  should  have 
expected  him  to  do.  He  tried  St.  Cyran  first  with 
craftiness,  then  with  cruelty. 

St.  Cyran  was  promptly  introduced  by  the  cardinal 
at  court,  as  "  the  most  learned  man  in  Europe." 
This  was  a  polite  fiction,  as  both  parties  knew.     It 


The  Director  of  Consciences.  67 

would  have  been  much  nearer  the  truth  if  spoken  of 
Jansen. 

Next,  Richelieu  offered  him  the  position  of  first 
almoner  to  Henrietta  of  England,  the  French  prin- 
cess who  had  married  Charles  the  First.  This  was  a 
most  politic  move.  The  office  was  honorable  enough 
to  satisfy  almost  any  man's  ambition,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  it  would  remove  St.  Cyran — secrets  and 
all — from  the  society  where  he  was  beginning  to  have 
such  remarkable  influence.  But  St.  Cyran  calmly 
declined  the  honor  and  thus  avoided  the  snare. 

Eight  bishoprics  were  then  successively  offered 
him,  among  them  the  very  desirable  ones  of  Cler- 
mont and  Bayonne.  After  each  of  these  offers,  St. 
Cyran  attended  the  cardinal's  levee,  and  courteously 
thanked  him  for  his  kind  intentions.  But  he  never 
attended  courtly  festivities  on  other  occasions,  and 
withdrew  himself  more  and  more  from  the  fashion- 
able society  which  had  been  so  ready  to  welcome  him. 

He  took  an  humble  lodging  opposite  the  Carthusian 
convent  and  devoted  himself  to  prayer,  study,  and 
charity.  But  it  was  like  the  leaven  hidden  in  the 
meal.  Obscurity  only  seemed  to  widen  his  influence. 
He  was  not  seen  among  the  guests  of  the  wealthy, 
but  here,  in  this  modest  retreat,  he  daily  received 
visits  from  those  who  were  wont  to  be  found  in  the 
audience-chambers  of  the  Palais  Royal  and  the 
Louvre. 


6S  Sister  mid  Saint. 

He  was  a  physician  of  souls,  and  many  a  pained 
and  weary  heart,  half  unconscious,  perhaps,  of  its 
own  ailment,  and  ignorant  of  the  remedy,  came  here 
to  him  for  help.  With  wonderful  patience,  tender- 
ness, and  skill,  though  sometimes  with  a  keen  and 
painful  probing,  he  laid  bare  the  hidden  disease  and 
showed  the  way  to  the  Healer. 

It  was  not  only  by  the  wealthy  and  fashionable 
that  he  was  sought.  The  greatest  thinkers  of  his 
time,  lawyers,  statesmen,  scientists,  priests,  came  to 
be  directed  by  him,  and,  one  by  one,  he  led  them 
away  from  their  errors  into  the  truth. 

Devout  and  thoughtful  women  who  had  been 
praying  for  years  under  the  silent  convent  roof,  and 
whose  hearts  God  had  been  slowly  opening,  now 
heard  of  this  new  teacher,  sent,  as  it  seemed  to  them, 
from  God,  and  came  to  put  themselves  under  his 
guidance. 

Angelique  and  Agnes  Arnauld,  the  celebrated 
sister  abbesses  of  Port  Royal  (with  whom  through 
our  friends,  the  Pascals,  we  are  soon  to  become  fa- 
miliar), early  sought  for  themselves  and  their  nuns  St. 
Cyran's  influence,  and  he  became  the  regular  spirit- 
ual director  of  their  convent. 

Long  ago,  in  their  own  Bibles  and  through  their 
own  enlightened  consciences,  partly,  perhaps,  though 
they  never  guessed  it,  through  the  influence  of 
Huguenot  relatives,  these  sisters  had  found  out  for 


The  Director  oj  L-onsciences.  09 

themselves  something  of  this  more  excellent  way. 
Now,  how  good  it  was  to  be  confirmed  and  strength- 
ened by  this  holy  man !  How  wisely  he  instructed 
all  these  nuns,  and  helped  them  make  of  the  dull 
routine  of  the  convent  a  happy  service  for  the  Mas- 
ter's sake !  How  he  smoothed  away  intellectual 
doubts  and  difficulties  for  the  more  thoughtful  ones  ! 
How  he  helped  and  advised  them  in  every  way,  and 
how  warmly  and  womanly  they  all  loved  him ! 

But  he  was  very  sharp  with  them  sometimes,  so 
much  so  that  Angelique  (who,  as  we  shall  see,  had 
some  spirit  of  her  own)  one  day  said  to  him,  *'  My 
father,  it  seems  to  me  you  are  only  gentle  toward 
those  who  abuse  your  confidence  and  deceive  you." 

When  Marie-Claire,  another  of  the  Arnauld  sisters, 
who  had  been  very  unjust  to  St.  Cyran  in  a  certain 
matter,  cam^,  at  last,  almost  broken-hearted  in  her 
penitence,  to  make  her  humble  confession,  he  stop- 
ped her. 

''  We  must  find  out,"  he  said,  "  whether  you  exag- 
gerate your  faults,  and  whether  in  the  sight  of  God  they 
are  as  great  as  you  think  them.  We  must  look  care- 
fully into  this  matter God   is  a  Spirit,  and 

spiritual  sins  grieve  Him  more  than  any  others. 
Beware  of  exaggeration.  We  do  not  need  any  close 
scrutiny  to  remind  us  of  our  sins.  Kneel  before  God 
without  words,  without  anxious  self-scrutiny.  He 
will  understand  you." 


70  Sister  and  Samt. 

Another  day  when  she  was  mourning  over  her  sins, 
he  said  :  "  You  must  forget  the  past.  If  we  were 
always  obHged  to  think  of  our  past  sins,  no  one 
could  be  happy.  He  who  has  commanded  us  not  to 
look  back  when  we  have  put  our  hand  to  the  plow, 
knows  what  is  for  our  good." 

When  Marie-Claire  begged  that  she  might  as  a 
penance,  and  in  proof  of  her  humility,  be  made  a  lay 
sister*  for  life,  St  Cyran  sharply  rebuked  her. 

"  You  wish  the  future  to  be  settled  for  you,"  he 
said.  "  I  do  not  like  that  request.  Those  who  be- 
long to  God  ought  to  have  nothing  absolutely  settled 

and  decided For  myself,  I  do  not  want   to 

know  what  I  shall  do  when  I  leave  this  place.  We 
are  told  to  ask  God  for  our  bread  (that  is,  for  His 
grace),  day  by  day ;  but  I  should  like  to  ask  for  it 

hour  by  hour It  is  contrary  to  the  spirit  of 

true  humility  to  seek  to  do  extraordinary  things. 
There  is  no  greater  pride  than  in  seeking  to  humil- 
iate ourselves  beyond  measure  ;  and  sometimes  there 
is  no  truer  humility  than  to  attempt  great  works  for 
God." 

Many  a  word  of  wisdom  taken  direct  from  the 
good  man's  lips,  and  many  a  delightful  anecdote  of 
him  or  his  distinguished  friends,  is  recorded  for  us  in 
Lancelot's  charming  "  Memoires  de  St.  Cyran."    The 


*  A  lay-sister  is  one  who  performs  the  menial  services  of  the 
convent. 


The  Director  of  Consciences.  71 

pen   is  tempted  to  linger  over  them,  but  we  must 
content  ourselves  with  a  very  few. 

Notwithstanding  his  ordinarily  cool  and  dignified 
demeanor,  the  good  father  had  a  very  tender  spot  in 
his  heart,  especially  toward  the  little  ones.  One  day 
he  bought  a  pot  of  preserved  quinces  for  a  little  girl 
among  the  novices  at  Port  Royal,  a  daughter  of  his 
particular  friend,  d'Andilly.  But  on  the  way  to  the 
convent,  scruples  overcame  him  lest  "  the  sweets  of 
earth  should  destroy  her  taste  for  the  sweets  of 
heaven."  He  resolved  not  to  offer  the  gift,  and  hid 
it  under  the  folds  of  his  mantle.  But  when  he 
reached  the  house  and  was  told  that  the  little  girl  , 
was  not  feeling  well  that  day,  love  overcame  his 
caution,  and  the  quinces  were  sent  to  her  room  at 
once. 

A  conscientious  nun  once  came  to  him  very  much 
exercised  in  regard  to  the  faults  of  a  certain  sister 
nun.  Surely  these  were  very  wrong  proceedings. 
Should  she  speak  of  them  ?  "  Be  silent  for  three 
months,"  said  the  director  of  consciences.  At  the 
end  of  three  months  she  reminded  him  that  the  time 
had  elapsed.  Might  she  tell  now?  "No,"  said  he, 
"  be  silent  for  the  rest  of  your  life." 

De  Sericourt,  who  had  been  a  military  man,  after 
his  conversion  asked  St.  Cyran  to  teach  him  how  to 
pray.  "  You  know  soldiers  are  not  much  instructed 
on  this  point,"  he  said. 


72  Sister  and  Saint. 

St.  Cyran  placed  his  hands  together,  bowed  his 
head,  and  then  Hfted  his  eyes  to  heaven.  "  This,  sir, 
is  all  we  have  to  do,"  he  said.  "  We  have  only  to 
appear  humbly  before  God,  and  remember  that  He 
is  looking  down  upon  us."  De  Sericourt  says  that 
his  master's  devout  look  and  these  simple  words  were 
better  than  all  the  books  of  devotion  in  the  world. 

To  his  learned  body  of  "  Recluses,"  all  of  them,  in 
spite  of  their  religious  ardor,  more  or  less  ambitious 
of  literary  fame,  St.  Cyran  one  day  said:  "Jesus 
Christ  has  written  nothing ;  and  He  shows  us  there- 
by that  the  sublimity  of  godliness  can  only  be 
worthily  represented  by  living  acts. " 

As  may  easily  be  seen,  a  man  teaching  such  pure 
and  undefiled  religion  as  this,  and  exercising  such  a 
powerful  and  wide-spread  influence,  was  an  element 
not  very  desirable  to  a  corrupt  Church. 

The  Jesuits  hated  him  as  heartily  as  Richelieu  did, 
and  that  not  merely  on  doctrinal  grounds,  but  also 
from  a  very  natural  feeling  of  jealousy  and  envy. 

Up  to  this  time  the  schools  of  the  Jesuits  had 
enjoyed  great  celebrity.  The  education  of  the  higher 
classes  had  been  almost  entirely  in  their  hands.  But 
now,  among  St.  Cyran's  friends  there  were  many  per- 
sons of  rank  and  fortune  who  wished  equal  advan- 
tages for  their  children  without  the  contamination  of 
Jesuitical  principles. 

They  consulted  St.  Cyran,  and,  under  his  personal 


The  Director  of  Consciences.  73 

direction,  a  number  of  little  schools  in  and  about 
Paris  were  opened. 

There  were  plenty  of  men  of  talent  among  his 
disciples  to  take  the  place  of  teachers.  Nicole, 
Lancelot,  and  Fontaine,  all  of  whom  have  written 
long  and  intensely  interesting  histories  of  these 
times,  were  among  them.  "  The  great  Arnauld," 
foremost  of  a  remarkable  family,  was  a  writer  of 
text-books  for  these  schools,  and  so  was  De  Saci,  the 
author  of  that  beautiful,  "  pure,  limpid  translation 
of  the  Bible  "  still  in  use  among  French  Protestant 
churches. 

A  few  years  later  we  shall  find  Blaise  Pascal  adding 
to  the  fame  of  these  schools  by  his  novel  and  suc- 
cessful theories  of  education,  and  Racine,  the  poet, 
entering  one  of  them  as  a  pupil. 

The  "  Port  Royal  Grammars  "  (Greek  and  Latin), 
the  "  Greek  Primitives,"  and  the  **  Elements  of  Logic 
and  of  Geometry,"  were  soon  famous,  not  only 
throughout  France,  but  throughout  Europe. 

Learned  treatises  on  many  subjects,  but  chiefly  on 
theology,  were  published  by  those  connected  with 
these  schools,  and  "//j  sont  marquh  au  coin  de  Port 
RoyaV"^  came  to  be  the  fashionable  phrase  of  condem- 
nation, or  favor,  as  the  case  might  be. 


*  From  the  fact  that  a  large  number  of  St.  Cyran's  followers  who 
called  themselves  "the  recluses,"  but  were  bound  by  no  vows, 
established  themselves  at  the  gates  of  the  convent  of  Port  Royal 
4 


74  Sister  and  Samt. 

Clearly,  as  we  have  said,  this  state  of  things  was  no 
longer  to  be  borne,  and  we  are  not  surprised  to  learn 
that  after  seventeen  years  in  Paris,  St.  Cyran  was  one 
day  arrested  by  order  of  the  cardinal.  Nineteen 
separate  charges  Richelieu  averred  that  he  found 
against  this  seditious  priest,  but  the  charges  were 
never  specified,  for  there  was  no  trial,  and,  until  he 
had  been  a  year  in  prison,  no  show  even  of  examina- 
tion. At  midnight,  May  14,  1638,  twenty-two  arch- 
ers surrounded  St.  Cyran's  little  dwelling  and  waited 
until  morning,  hoping  to  find  some  pretext  for  attack- 
ing the  house ;  but  nothing  of  the  kind  occurring,  at 
six  o'clock  they  knocked  and  demanded  admission. 
St.  Cyran  was  reading  St.  Augustine  with  his  nephew, 
and  they  had  just  come  to  a  passage  on  humility. 
"  That  is  just  what  we  want,"  he  said.  "  Here  is 
something  to  defend  ourselves  with."  The  ofificer 
then  coming  into  his  room  informed  him  that  he  had 
orders  to  conduct  him  to  a  carriage  standing  at  the 
gate.  "  Sir,"  said  St.  Cyran,  kindly  taking  his  hand, 
"  it  is  my  duty  and  my  pleasure  to  obey  the  King." 

They  drove  at  once  to  the  fortress  of  Vincennes. 
Many  a  traveler  of  our  day  has  taken  the  same  road 
through  the  grand  old  park  and  forest  to  the  chateau, 
and  climbed  the  x\\vs\&6i  ^donjon  for  the  magnificent 


des  Champs,  eighteen  miles  from  Paris,  the  whole  party  were  often 
called  Port  Royalists,  though  after  the  death  of  Jansen,  from  their 
defense  of  his  book,  they  were  frequently  called  Jansenists. 


The  Director  of  Consciences,  75 

view  of  the  surrounding  country  and  the  distant  city. 
As  they  went  through  the  park  they  met  M. 
d'Andilly,  that  friend  whom  St.  Cyran  called  his 
"  friend  par  excellence^  Lancelot  tells  us  that  the 
guard  had  received  orders  to  turn  back  the  facings  of 
their  regimentals  so  as  to  excite  no  suspicion.  Con- 
sequently d'Andilly,  with  no  thought  of  trouble,  rode 
gaily  up  to  the  side  of  the  coach  and  said :  "  My 
father,  where  are  you  taking  all  these  people ? "  "It 
is  not  I  who  take  them  ;  they  take  me,"  answered  St. 
Cyran.  "  But,"  he  added,  "  I  look  upon  myself  as 
the  prisoner  of  God,  not  of  man." 

The  friends  were  allowed  a  few  moments'  conversa- 
tion, when  St.  Cyran  mentioned  his  regret  that  he 
could  not  have  had  time  to  bring  a  book  with  him. 
D'Andilly  had  with  him  a  copy  of  the  confessions  of 
St.  Augustine.  "  You  first  taught  me  the  value  of 
this  book,"  he  said.  "  Now  I  am  thankful  to  give  it 
back  to  you."  "  They  then  embraced,"  says  the 
touching  story,  "  as  those  who  expect  to  see  each 
other's  face  no  more  till  the  resurrection  of  the  just." 

The  same  morning  Richelieu  called  to  him  one  of 
his  attendant  ecclesiastics.  **  Beaumont,"  said  he,  "  I 
have  done  a  thing  which  will  raise  a  great  outcry.  I 
have  had  the  Abbot  of  St.  Cyran  arrested.  Learned 
people  and  pious  people,  too,  will  make  a  great  piece 
of  work  about  it.  But  I  am  sure  I  have  done  a  good 
thing.     A  great  many  calamities  would  have  been 


76 


Sister  and  Saint. 


averted  if  Luther  and  Calvin  had  been  shut  up  as 
soon  as  they  began  to  dogmatize." 

And  some  time  later,  when  Prince  Henry  of  Bour- 
bon ventured  to  plead  for  St.  Cyran,  the  cardinal  an- 
swered, "  You  don't  know  the  man  for  whom  you  are 
•  interceding.     He  is  more  dangerous  than  six  armies. ' 


% 


"THE   OBSTACLE   BECOMES   THE 
INSTRUMENT." 


VII. 

"THE  OBSTACLE  BECOMES  THE  INSTRUMENT." 

IN  the  prison  of  Vincennes,  at  the  time  of  St. 
Cyran's  arrest,  was  a  certain  learned  priest  named 
Guillebert.  He  was  released  soon  afterward,  but 
not  till  he  had  heartily  adopted  St.  Cyran's  views  and 
begun  to  seek  the  truth  in  his  spirit. 

When  he  was  set  free  he  was  appointed  to  the 
parish  of  Rouville,  a  suburb  of  Rouen,  And  thus 
we  come  around — the  circle  of  circumstance  and  in- 
fluence being  complete — to  the  Pascals  once  more. 

For  as  soon  as  Guillebert  began  to  preach  he  be- 
came famous  in  all  the  region  round  about.  "A  great 
religious  awakening  " — the  phrase  has  an  oddly  con- 
strained and  "  not  at  home  "  look  in  the  French — 
took  place  throughout  the  whole  diocese  of  Rouen. 

Father  Guillebert  was  eloquent  as  well  as  learned, 
and  this  fact,  added  to  the  novelty  and  force  of  his 
teachings,  brought  all  sorts  of  people,  from  far  and 
from  near,  to  hear  him.     Rouville  was  crowded  with 

(79) 


8o  Sister  and  Saint, 

guests,  and  members  of  the  parliament  of  Rouen  were 
accustomed  to  hire  lodgings  in  the  village  of  a  Satur- 
day so  as  to  be  ready  for  the  Sabbath  services.  Sun- 
day travehng  was,  apparently,  not  so  fashionable  then 
as  it  has  since  become. 

The  new  doctrines  became  the  town  talk  of  Rouen, 
and,  whatever  their  opinion  concerning  them,  the 
Pascals  must  have  shared  in  the  general  interest,  and 
very  possibly  were  sometimes  among  Guillebert's 
hearers.  But,  for  a  year  or  two  after  Madame  Perier's 
marriage,  we  lose  her  graphic  family  narrative,  and 
have  no  record  of  the  details  of  their  life. 

Sainte-Beuve  thinks  he  can  trace  in  Corneille's 
writings  after  this  time  the  influence  of  the  truths 
preached  at  Rouville,  though  the  poet,  educated  by 
the  Jesuits,  and  closely  connected  with  them  in  many 
ways,  remained  through  life  attached  to  that  party. 
However  this  may  be,  no  intelligent  person  living  at 
this  time  in  Rouen  could  have  failed  to  be  more  or 
less  affected  by  these  things,  and  the  Pascals  had 
doubtless  before  this  watched  with  interest  the  cardi- 
nal's proceedings  against  St.  Cyran. 

It  was  at  last,  however,  by  one  of  those  seeming 
accidents  on  which  so  often  human  destinies  are 
hinged,  that  these  solemn  questions  of  truth  and 
duty  became  vital  realities  to  our  friends.  Up  to  this 
time  they  had  been  upright,  conscientious,  devout, 
but  not,  as  they  expressed  it,  "  eclaire." 


''The  Obstacle  becomes  the  Ijistrtimcntl''    8i 

One  day,  in  the  winter  of  1646,  M.  Pascal  slipped 
and  fell  on  the  ice,  seriously  spraining  or  dislocating 
his  thigh.  One  account  mentions  that  it  was  "  while 
absent  from  home  on  a  charitable  errand  "  that  the 
accident  took  place. 

Now  there  were  living  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Rouen  two  wealthy  gentlemen,  brothers,  named 
Deslandes  and  De  la  Bouteillerie,*  who  seem  to 
have  been  surgeons  by  nature,  and  who  were  often 
called  upon  to  remedy  such  accidents. 

These  gentlemen  had  become,  under  the  preaching 
of  Guillebert,  humble  and  active  Christians.  Each  of 
them  had  erected  a  small  hospital  in  his  own  park, 
Deslandes,  who  had  ten  children,  furnishing  his 
building  with  ten  beds  and  De  la  Bouteillerie,  who 
•was  childless,  providing  for  twice  that  number  of 
patients.  Both  spent  most  of  their  time  in  attend- 
ance on  the  sick,  and  they  were  always  ready  at  any 
call  to  exercise  their  remarkable  skill  in  setting  broken 
or  dislocated  bones. 

M.  Pascal  "  placed  no  confidence  in  any  one  else," 
his  daughter  tells  us,  and  sent  at  once  for  these  good 
brothers,  who  not  only  came,  but,  both  of  them,  re- 
mained in  the  family  three  months  in  order  to  insure 
complete  recovery. 

This  was  the  turning  point  in  Jacqueline  Pascal's 


*  Brothers  in  French  families  are  often  known  by  different  names 
according  to  their  estates. 
4* 


82  Sister  and  Saiiit. 

life.  These  three  months  were  the  quick,  warm  sum- 
mer sent  to  ripen  the  character  we  have  seen  already 
in  its  fragrant  flower.  True,  conscientious,  enthusias- 
tic— much  that  was  right  and  lovely  and  pure — she 
had  been  before.  She  now  becomes  (and  recognizes 
herself  as  such)  a  loving  child  of  God.  She  now 
seeks  first  His  kingdom  and  His  righteousness,  and 
all  these  other  things  are  added  unto  her. 
Just  when  the  change  came  we  can  not  know. 


"  Who  ever  saw  the  earliest  rose 
First  open  her  sweet  breast  ? 
Or,  when  the  summer  sun  goes  down, 
The  first  soft  star  in  evening's  crown 
Light  up  her  gleaming  Erest  1 " 


But  at  some  time  during  this  period  the  influences 
of  all  her  past  life,  gracious  and  merciful,  and  leading 
always  up  to  this  point,  culminated  in  the  influences 
of  the  moment,  and  she  stepped  into  a  larger  life — ■ 
she  became  partaker  of  the  Eternal  Life. 

"Toward  the  end  of  the  year  1646,  about  ten 
months  after  the  accident,"  writes  Gilbertej  "when 
M.  Bellay,  the  bishop  of  the  diocese,  was  holding  an 
ordination  at  Rouen,  my  sister,  who  had  not  yet  been 
confirmed,  wished  to  receive  this  sacrament.  She 
prepared  for  it  according  to  instructions  which  she 
found  in  some  little  treatises  of  M.  de  St.  Cyran,  and 
we  have  reason  to  believe  that  she  then  truly  received 


"The  Obstacle  becomes  the  Instrumenty    2>t, 

the  Holy  Spirit,  for,  from  that  time,  she  was  greatly 
changed." 

The  residence  of  these  two  physicians  with  the 
Pascals  did  not  affect  Jacqueline  alone.  The  whole 
household  p'rofited  by  their  presence.  Their  improv- 
ing conversation  and  the  simple  goodness  of  their 
lives,  we  are  told,  first  attracted  the  hearts  of  all,  and 
then  there  came  the  natiiral  curiosity  to  see  the  books 
which  they  mentioned  as  having  been  helpful  and  in- 
spiring to  them. 

"  Thus  they  became  acquainted,"  says  Madame 
Perier,  "with  the  works  of  M.  Jansen,  M.  de  St. 
Cyran,  M.  Arnauld,  and  with  other  writings  by  which 
they  were  greatly  edified." 

Blaise,  with  his  eager,  searching  mind,  was  not  long 
in  investigating  the  truths  now  brought  so  near  to 
him.  And,  once  carefully  considered,  he  honestly 
and  heartily  adopted  them,  and  gave  up  his  life  to  the 
service  of  God.  "  He  comprehended  perfectly,"  says 
his  sister,  "  that  the  Christian  religion  obliges  us  to 
live  for  God  alone,  and  to  have  no  other  object,  and 
this  truth  appeared  to  him  so  evident,  so  necessary, 
and  so  practical,  that  he  brought  to  an  end  all  his  re- 
searches, and  from  that  time  renounced  all  other 
knowledge  to  apply  himself  alone  to  that  '  one  thing ' 
which  Jesus  Christ  calls  needful." 

In  "  giving  up  all  other  knowledge  and  terminating 
all  his  researches,"  Blaise  Pascal  went  through,  as  we 


84  Sister  a7id  Saini. 

shall  see,  a  terrible  struggle — it  may  seem  to  us  a 
needlessly  violent  one.  But  one  temptation  he  did 
not  have.  Skepticism,  which  has  troubled  so  many 
minds  before  his  day  and  since,  seems  never  to  have 
attacked  him.  He  had  no  doubts  in  regard  to  the 
vital  and  eternal  truths  of  Christianity.  His  grasp  of 
mind  was  so  large  and  his  intellect  so  clear  that  he 
did  not  confuse,  as  so  many  have  done,  the  different 
realms  of  truth.  He  recognized  that  spiritual  things 
can  not  be  discerned  as  material  things  are  discerned, 
or  judged  as  material  things  are  judged.  His  wise 
father  had  "taught  him  from  infancy  that  .that 
which  is  the  object  of  faith  can  not  be  the  object 
of  reason,  much  less  can  it  be  submitted  to  reason." 
"This  maxim,  often  reiterated  by  a  father  for  whom 
he  had  great  respect,  and  in  whom  he  saw  great 
knowledge,  accompanied  with  a  very  clear  and 
powerful  reason,  made  so  great  an  impression  on  his 
mind  that,  whatever  discourse  he  may  have  heard 
which  tended  to  free-thinking,  he  was  in  no  way 
moved  by  it ;  and  even  when  he  was  very  young,  he 
regarded  skeptics  as  men  who  were  acting  on  a  false 
principle,  viz,  that  the  human  reason  is  above  every- 
thing else,  and  as  men  who  did  not  understand  the 
nature  of  faith." 

"  Thus,"  continues  Madame  Perier,  "  this  mind,  so 
large,  so  grasping,  and  so  full  of  curiosity,  which 
searched  with  so   much  care  for  the  cause  and  the 


"  The  Obstacle  becomes'  the  Instrument."   85 

reason  of  everything,  was,  at  the  same  time,  in  mat- 
ters of  religion,  trustful  as  a  little  child. 

"This  simplicity  governed  his  whole  life,  so  that,  in 
after-years,  when  his  whole  heart  was  engrossed  with 
spiritual  realities,  he  never  busied  himself  with  curi- 
ous questions  of  theology,  but  applied  the  full 
strength  of  his  mind  to  understand  and  to  practice 
Christian  holiness,  dedicating  to  this  all  his  talents, 
and  meditating  day  and  night  on  the  law  of  his  God." 

What  a  Christian  character  was  that !  Happy  Jac- 
queline, who  could  walk  hand  in  hand  with  such  a 
brother  in  the  way  which,  though  they  found  it  nar- 
row, they  also  found  a  way  of  exceeding  pleasant- 
ness !  Happy  father,  who  now,  "  not  ashamed  to 
become  the  child  of  his  children,"  followed  after  them 
in  this  way  of  life ! 

In  the  course  of  the  winter  M.  and  Madame  Perier 
visited  Rouen  and  became  the  subjects  of  a  like 
change.  And  thus  the  whole  family  rejoiced  together 
in  the  love  of  God,  and  entered  with  enthusiastic  de- 
votion on  the  highest  service  possible  to  human  souls. 

During  the  years  immediately  preceding  the  con- 
version of  the  Pascals,  great  changes  had  taken  place 
in  France. 

In  December,  1642,  Cardinal  Richelieu  died,  and  a 
few  months  afterward,  the  king,  Louis  XIIL,  leav- 
ing the  kingdom  in  the  hands  of  Anne  of  Austria  as 
Regent,  with  Cardinal  Ma^arin  for  Prime  Minister. 


86  Sister  and  Saint. 

The  young  king,  Louis  XIV.,  was  but  five  years  of 
age  at  the  time  of  his  father's  death. 

When  Richeheu  died,  many  a  prison-door  was 
opened,  and  among  those  hberated  was  St.  Cyran. 
His  years  in  prison  had  been  fruitful  ones.  As  is 
so  often  the  case  in  the  Hves  of  good  men,  ''the 
obstacle  became  the  instrument,"  and  the  letters 
written  from  his  cell  and  circulated  with  enthusiastic 
industry  by  his  friends  and  disciples,  probably  did 
more  good  than  he,  in  his  own  person,  could  have 
effected.  Especially  was  religious  interest  quickened 
among  the  nobility  by  Richelieu's  violent  measure. 

The  Duchess  d'Aiguillon  interceded  with  her  uncle 
for  St.  Cyran,  but  without  the  success  which  had  at- 
tended her  efforts  for  M.  Pascal  during  Jacqueline's 
childhood.  She  obtained  permission,  however,  to 
visit  the  prisoner  and  to  take  d'Andilly  with  her,  and 
through  this  latter  faithful  friend  St.  Cyran  was  kept 
supplied  with  pencils  and  paper.  The  duchess  also 
visited  Port  Royal,  and  the  convent  became,  we  are 
told,  "  a  fashionable  resort  of  the  court,"  much  to  the 
discomfort  of  the  good  abbesses  Angelique  and 
Agnes.  They  were  willing,  however,  to  do  what  they 
could  for  human  souls,  whatever  their  station  in  this 
life.  They  showed  infinite  patience,  tenderness,  and 
charity  toward  the  Princess  de  Guemene,  for  exam- 
ple, who  was  one  of  their  most  constant  visitors,  but 
a  woman  of  light  and  frivolous  character.     Her  fre- 


''The  Obstacle  becomes  the  Btstrument!'    87 

quent  '*  retreats  "  to  the  convent,  and  her  long  con- 
versations with  them  on  spiritual  matters  gave  them 
great  hope  of  her.  But  St.  Cyran,  to  whom  all  these 
things  were  faithfully  reported,  knew  the  world  better 
than  they  did.  "  The  grace  of  God  in  that  woman's 
soul,"  he  wrote,  "is  like  a  spark  kindled  on  an  icy 
pavement  with  the  winds  blowing  on  it  from  every 
quarter."    And  so  it  proved. 

But  in  some  seemingly  unpromising  spots  the  well- 
tended  spark  increased  to  a  flame  both  warm  and 
bright.  Among  the  "  illustrious  women  of  the  seven- 
teenth century  "  (of  whom  Cousin  has  given  us  some 
delightful  studies,  and  first  of  whom,  by  the  way,  he 
places  our  own  Jacqueline  Pascal),  we  find  many 
whose  hearts  have  caught,  in  greater  or  less  degree, 
the  gracious  warmth  and  light. 

A  beautiful  example  of  thorough  and  sincere  con- 
version was  Madame  de  St.  Ange,  a  member  of  the 
household  of  Anne  of  Austria.  This  lady,  we  are 
told,  "  was  soon  promoted  by  St.  Cyran  from  the 
rank  of  disciple  to  that  of  friend,"  and  she  became 
one  of  the  most  faithful  of  his  agents  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  charity. 

Pleasant  stories  are  told  of  St.  Cyran's  thoughtful 
kindness  for  others  while  in  prison.  At  one  time  he 
bestows  a  wedding  dowry  on  a  poor  maiden.  Again, 
he  sends  for  a  black  coat  for  a  poor  mad  prisoner  who 
can  not  endure  the  sight  of  the  gray  clothes  he  wears. 


88  Sister  and  Saint. 

Among  the  prisoners  were  a  Baron  and  Baroness  de 
Beausoleil,  who  were  very  destitute  and  poorly  clad. 
St.  Cyran  sent  directions  to  have  clothing  bought  for 
them,  and  added  :  "  Pray  let  the  cloth  be  good  and 
fine,  such  as  befits  their  rank.  I  do  not  know  what  is 
proper,  but  I  think  I  have  heard  somewhere  that 
gentlemen  and  ladies  of  their  condition  can  not  ap- 
pear without  gold  lace  for  the  men  and  black  lace  for 
the  women.  If  so,  pray  get  the  best,  and,  in  short, 
let  all  be  done  modestly,  but  yet  handsomely,  that,  in 
looking  at  each  other,  they  may  for  a  few  minutes 
forget  that  they  are  captives." 

Against  this  waste  his  almoner  remonstrated. 
("Why  was  not  this  ointment  sold  for  three  hundred 
pence  and  given  to  the  poor?")  But  St.  Cyran  an- 
swered :  "I  do  not  believe  that  the  Lord,  who  com- 
mands me  to  give  unto  Csesar  that  which  is  Caesar's, 
will  account  me  a  bad  steward  for  giving  modestly  to 
each  according  to  that  rank  in  which  He  placed  them." 
Let  us  ponder  this  lesson — all  of  us  active  philan- 
thropists who  are  so  much  inclined  to  give  to  the 
needy  not  what  they  wish,  but  what  we  think  they 
ought  to  wish — who  willingly  "  bestow  our  goods  to 
feed  the  poor,  and  have  not  charity." 

As  we  have  seen  in  the  case  of  Guillebert,  St.  Cy- 
ran's  influence  on  his  fellow-prisoners  often  produced 
wide-spread  results.  All  were,  at  least,  impressed  by 
his  character,  if  not  convinced  by  his  teachings. 


''The  Obstacle  becomes  the  Instrument^    89 

John  de  Wert,  a  Spanish  nobleman  and  prisoner  of 
war,  who  was  also  at  Vincennes,  was  once  released 
for  a  few  days  on  parole,  and  invited  to  a  magnifi- 
cent ballet  given  by  Richelieu  for  the  express  purpose 
of  impressing  the  foreign  ministers  and  prisoners  with 
French  wealth  and  magnificence.  The  cardinal 
seated  his  noble  guest  next  to  him,  and,  somewhat 
chagrined  by  his  unbroken  silence  through  the  entire 
spectacle,  at  last  asked  what  had  most  impressed  him 
of  all  the  remarkable  things  he  had  seen  in  France. 
"My  lord,"  answered  John  de  Wert  at  once,  "noth- 
ing has  so  much  astonished  me  in  the  dominion  of  his 
Most  Christian  Majesty,  as  to  see  ecclesiastics  amusing 
themselves  at  theaters  while  saints  languish  in  prison." 

Great  and  general  was  the  joy  when,  shortly  after 
Richelieu's  death,  St.  Cyran  obtained  his  release. 

D'Andilly  went  to  bring  him  away  in  his  carriage, 
and  they  drove  once  more  through  the  forest  of  Vin- 
cennes. "  No  captive,"  says  Mrs.  Schimmelpen- 
ninck,  "  had  ever  received  such  demonstrations  of 
esteem.  His  guards  and  fellow-prisoners  threw  them- 
selves at  his  feet,  to  implore  his  parting  benediction, 
and  they  mingled  tears  of  joy  at  his  release,  with 
those  of  sorrow  for  his  departure.  His  guards  espec- 
ially mourned  his  loss,  and  all  the  garrison,  wishing 
to  shov/  their  respect,  spontaneously  arranged  them- 
selves in  two  rows  to  let  him  pass  out,  to  the  sound 
of  fifes  and  drums  and  discharges  of  musketry." 


QO  Sister  and  Saint. 

After  a  brief  stop  in  Paris,  they  drove  to  Port 
Royal  dcs  CJiamps.  But  the  good  news  was  swallow- 
winged,  and  had  reached  the  convent  before  them. 
It  was  the  hour  of  silence  when  the  announcement 
came — an  hour  strictly  and  solemnly  observed  by 
every  member  of  the  household.  But  Angelique 
could  not  keep  her  joy  to  herself.  She  hastened  to 
the  conference  room,  where  the  nuns  w'cre  assembled, 
and  her  radiant  face  partly  told  the  story.  Then  she 
snatched  off  the  girdle  which  bound  her  robe,  and 
held  it  out.  The  sisters  guessed  the  parable,  and 
tears  of  joy  sprang  to  many  eyes,  and  heads  were 
bowed  in  thankfulness,  though  not  a  word  was 
spoken.  When  d'Andilly  and  St.  Cyran  arrived, 
they  went  at  once  to  the  chapel,  and  the  nuns,  hastily 
assembled,  sang  a  joyful  Tc  Dcwn  while  their  be- 
loved father  knelt  at  the  altar  to  give  thanks. 

But  the  years  of  imprisonment  and  deprivation 
had  produced  their  natural  effect,  and  St.  Cyran'g 
health  was  permanently  broken.  He  lived  but  a  few 
months  after  his  release.  Through  his  illness  he 
showed  a  sweetness  of  spirit  worthy  of  his  life.  He 
was  obliged  to  submit  to  a  surgical  operation,  and,  it 
is  said,  suffered  much  from  the  surgeon's  unskillful- 
ness.  But  he  refused  to  call  in  another  for  three 
reasons.  First,  his  life  was  in  the  hands  of  God  and 
not  of  man,  therefore  it  was  no  matter  whether  the 
surgeon  was  skillful  or  not.     Second,  the  poor  man 


''The  Obstacle  becomes  the  Instrument^   91 

was  doing  his  best,  and  it  would  be  unjust  to  punish 
him  for  what  was  not  his  fault.  In  the  third  place, 
the  physician  suggested  was  a  personal  friend  of  his 
own,  whom  it  would  be  a  great  pleasure  to  see,  and 
he  wished  to  deny  himself  that  gratification. 

These  three  reasons  are  a  good  epitome  of  the 
man's  character :  Implicit  faith  in  God ;  careful  jus- 
tice to  his  neighbor ;  no  tenderness  to  himself. 


A    HAPPY    YEAR. 


VIII. 

A    HAPPY  YEAR. 

THE  "spiritual  twinship  "  between  Jacqueline 
Pascal  and  her  brother  had  never  been  so 
strong  as  now. 

They  read  the  same  books,  they  thought  the  same 
thoughts,  they  prayed  the  same  prayers.  They  often 
wrote  their  letters  to  their  sister  in  concert,  using  the 
"  we  "  as  naturally  and  freely  as  the  habitual  singular 
pronoun,  and  subscribing  either  both  their  names,  or 
one  or  other  of  them,  as  it  happened,  apparently,  and 
without  any  reference  to  the  actual  writer. 

Some  ideas  and  phrases  found  in  the  letters  of  this 
time  are  repeated  in  Pascal's  celebrated  "  Thoughts," 
published  twenty  years  later,  while,  by  their  side,  like 
daisies  growing  in  some  temple  porch,  are  the  fresh, 
simple  expressions  of  a  young  girl's  feelings. 

They  were  very  free  with  one  another  and  with 
their  sister  in  speaking  of  their  religious  experiences. 


96  Sister  a7id  Samt. 

Aftei'ward  they  became  much  less  so,  owing  to  the 
extreme  reserve  recommended  by  the  Jansenist 
writers  as  a  safeguard  against  spiritual  pride.  "  It 
seems  to  us,"  says  one  letter,  "  that,  far  from  being 
forbidden,  we  are  actually  bound  to  make  known  to 
each  other  our  joy  over  God's  goodness  to  us  as  a 
family.  We  have  a  right  now  to  consider  our  rela- 
tionship as  perfected ;  having  before  been  united  by 
the  tie  of  flesh,  we  are  now  united  in  soul." 

Their  ardor  in  these  early  days  is  beautiful  and  in- 
spiring to  see.  "  There  is  no  point,"  closes  the  same 
letter,  "  where  it  is  not  perilous  for  us  to  halt.  We 
can  only  escape  a  fall  by  continually  climbing  higher." 

The  increasing  feebleness  of  young  Pascal's  health 
must  have  deepened  the  tenderness  of  the  intimacy 
between  brother  and  sister.  After  he  was  eighteen 
years  of  age,  he  used  to  say,  he  never  passed  a  day 
without  pain.  At  times  his  maladies  took  on  most 
distressing  and  alarming  forms. 

"  Besides  other  annoyances,"  says  Madame  Perier, 
"  he  was  unable  to  swallow  any  liquid  unless  it  was 
lukewarm,  and  then  only  when  it  was  trickled  drop 
by  drop  down  his  throat."  This  was  owing  to  a 
spasmodic  action  or  partial  paralysis  of  the  throat. 

"  In  order  to  relieve  his  intolerable  headaches,  his 
raging  internal  fever,  and  other  ailments  to  which  he 
was  subject,  his  physicians  ordered  him  to  take  cer- 
tain medicines  every  alternate  day  for  three  months. 


A  Happy  Year.  97 


These  all  had  to  be  swallowed  in  this  tedious,  luke- 
warm way.  It  was  a  veritable  penance  and  pitiful  to 
see,  but  he  never  once  complained." 

Sometimes  his  limbs  were  paralyzed  and  he  could 
not  move  without  crutches.  His  feet  were  cold  and 
heavy  as  marble,  and  in  order  to  produce  any  circu- 
lation in  them,  he  was  obliged  to  wear  stockings 
dipped  in  brandy. 

Jacqueline  during  these  days  was  housekeeper, 
nufte,  companion,  friend — all  that  is  meant  by  that 
large  word,  sister. 

Altogether,  this  year  of  her  father's  convalescence, 
her  brother's  increasing  need  of  her,  of  cheerful  letters 
back  and  forth  between  home  and  Clermont,  and  a 
long  visit  from  Gilberte  and  her  husband  at  one  time, 
of  household  cares  and  activities — so  many  to  the 
mistress  of  a  French  family  of  the  Pascals'  station — 
of  growing  interest  in  new  lines  of  thought,  and  of 
making  acquaintance  with  new  books  to  read — this 
last  year  in  quaint,  bright,  historic,  inspiring  Rouen — 
seems  to  us  the  happiest  year  of  Jacqueline  Pascal's 
life.  Perplexing  questions  had  not  yet  arisen.  Life 
was  simple.  Duty  was  plain.  Sacrifice,  if  she  was 
conscious  of  any,  brought  with  it,  day  by  day,  its  own 
reward.  Her  father,  who,  as  Gilberte  more  than  once 
tells  us,  loved  Jacqueline  with  "  an  extraordinary  ten- 
derness," was  happy  in  the  home  she  made  for  him. 
Her  brother  was  relieved  by  her  ministries,  soothed 
5 


98  Sister  and  Saint. 

by  her  sympathy,  practically  helped  by  her  ready  and 
interested  assistance  in  his  scientific  pursuits. 

Blaise  was  still  at  work  on  that  vexatious  little 
calculating  machine.  For  though  in  theory  it  had 
long  been  perfect,  its  workmanship  was  so  delicate 
and  its  principle  so  far  above  the  comprehension  of 
all  the  artificers  he  could  find,  that  he  had  endless 
trouble  in  getting  it  into  actual  operation.  He  had 
not  lost  his  childhood's  love  for  geometry,  and  there 
are  among  his  papers  one  or  two  undated  fragments 
on  mathematical  subjects  which  were  very  likely  writ- 
ten  about  this  time. 

But  the  principal  subject  of  his  investigations  just 
now  was  the  mechanical  properties  of  the  atmosphere,  . 
and  he  was  considering  with  his  usual  keen  and  search- 
ing interest  a  series  of  experiments  lately  made  in 
Italy  on  this  subject. 

We  can  not  do  more  in  this  little  book  than  stand 
on  the  border  of  that  great  region  of  physics  in  which 
Blaise  Pascal  delighted  to  roam.  But,  perhaps,  if  we 
linger  there  a  moment  we  may,  in  some  degree,  share 
Jacqueline's  sympathy  with  him. 

It  was  the  old  theory  of  the  "vacuum"  which  exer- 
cised his  mind — a  theory  so  old  and  so  respectable 
that  nobody  for  years  had  thought  of  calling  it  in 
question  any  more  than  we  do  that  of  gravitation. 
But  it  was  an  age  of  speculation  and  original  investi- 
gation in  science  as  well  as  in  theology.     And  this, 


A  Happy  Year.  99 

by  the  way,  the  historians  of  science  inform  us,  is 
owing  to  Descarfes,  as  great  a  revolutionist  in  his  do- 
main as  Luther  or  Calvin  had  been  in  theirs. 

When,  therefore,  it  was  found  by  the  fountain- 
makers  of  Cosmo  di  Medici  in  Florence  that  water 
could  be  forced  up  in  a  tube  only  thirty-two  feet,  they 
began  to  inquire  the  reason  of  its  refusal  to  go  further, 
and  consulted  the  aged  philosopher,  Galileo,  on  the 
subject.  Antiquity  had  said :  Water  follows  the 
piston  up  the  tube  of  a  pump  because  "  nature  abhors 
a  vacuum."  But  why,  asked  the  workmen,  will  it  fol- 
low the  piston  only  thirty-two  feet  ? 

For  the  honor  of  philosophy  some  answer  must  be 
given,  and  so  Galileo  answered  that  thirty-two  feet 
was  the  limit  of  nature's  abhorrence  of  a  vacuum  ! 
Beyond  that  she  did  not  abhor  one. 

Laughable  as  such  an  explanation  may  seem  to  us, 
it  was  received  in  all  seriousness  by  those  interested 
in  the  question  then,  and  was,  indeed,  no  more  absurd 
than  many  an  article  of  common  faith  in  those  days. 
But  Galileo  himself,  it  appears,  felt  somewhat  uneasy 
as  to  the  reasonableness  of  this  dictum  of  his,  and 
began  to  make  experiments  to  prove  it  either  true  or 
false.  He  was  an  old  man,  however,  and  died  before 
he  had  settled  the  point,  leaving  an  earnest  injunction 
to  his  pupil  and  successor,  Torricelli,  to  carry  on  his 
investigations. 

Torricelli  did  so,  and  published  in  1645  an  account 


loo  Sister  and  Saint. 

of  his  experiments,  with  the  hint  (for  it  was  scarcely 
more  than  that)  that  it  was  the  weight  of  the  atmos- 
phere, and  not  the  horror  of  a  vacuum,  which  regulated 
the  height  of  a  column  of  fluid  in  a  tube.  But  he,  in 
his  turn,  died  very  soon  after  the  publication  of  his 
paper,  and  before  his  opinion  was  proved  to  be  cor- 
rect— **  his  suspicion  really  a  secret  of  nature's" — kept 
so  well  till  now ! 

Our  young  philosopher  at  Rouen  heard  of  these 
things  through  Father  Mersenne,  a  priest  of  scien- 
tific tastes,  and  an  intimate  friend  of  the  great  Des- 
cartes. And  it  was  not  long  before  Pascal's  exper- 
iments ^^  tonchaiit  le  Vide''  were  as  well  known  in 
the  world  of  science  as  Torricelli's. 

He  conducted  them,  as  Torricelli  had  done,  with 
mercury,  the  heaviest  known  fluid,  instead  of  water, 
and  the  conclusion  in  his  mind,  also,  was  that  the  old 
doctrine  of  nature's  abhorrence  of  a  vacuum  had  no 
foundation  to  rest  upon,  and  that  all  the  phenomena 
formerly  explained  by  that  were  better  explained  by 
the  pressure  of  the  atmosphere. 

Early  in  this  year,  1647,  Blaise  published  a  little 
book  giving  an  account  of  his  experiments.  The 
Abbe  Bossut  assures  us  that  not  till  after  its  publica- 
tion did  Pascal  know  that  Torricelli's  conclusions  had 
been  the  same  as  his  own,  though  he  had  been  in- 
formed in  detail  of  the  latter's  experiments.  How- 
ever that  may  be,  he  simply  makes  in  his  book  a  plain 


A  Happy  Year.  loi 

statement  of  his  own  observations  and  the  natural 
inferences  from  them,  and  distinctly  says  that  he 
makes  no  mention  of  what  h?^  been  done  in  Italy, 
because,  though  he  has  rej)eated  those  experiments 
"  in  every  sort  of  fashion,"  this  is  only  an  account  of 
his  own  proceedings. 

The  Jesuits  did  not  Hke  this  little  book.  And  there 
were  others  who  did  not  like  it.  "  All  the  false  sci- 
ence of  the  time,"  says  Bossut,  "arrayed  itself  against 
Pascal."  He  was  accused  of  borrowing  his  ideas  from 
the  Italians,  and  (what  was  worse)  of  unsettling  long- 
established  beliefs.  He  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  a 
lively  shower  of  controversial  pamphlets.  But  he 
took  wonderfully  little  interest  in  them.  He  was 
bent  on  discovering  the  truth,  and  proceeded  calmly 
to  devise  some  simple  and  final  experiments  which 
should  forever  settle  the  disputed  point. 

M.  Pascal,  the  elder,  however,  thought  it  worth 
while  to  answer  his  son's  most  conspicuous  antago- 
nist, a  certain  Father  Noel,  Rector  of  the  Jesuit  Col- 
lege in  Paris.  He  did  so  in  a  very  strong  and  sarcas- 
tic letter — ''  une  lettre  de  bonne  encre,"  Sainte-Beuve 
calls  it.  Father  Noel,  in  addition  to  several  long 
letters  of  objections,  had  gone  out  of  his  way  to 
write  a  poor  burlesque,  entitled  "  Le  Plein  du  Vide." 

M.  Pascal  makes  unmerciful  sport  of  the  reverend 
gentleman's  "  figures  of  rhetoric  which  are  not  within 
the  rules  of  grammar,"  but,  above  all,  gives  him  to 


102  Sister  and  Saint. 

understand  that,  in  dealing  with  his  son,  he  is  deahng 
with  no  common  fee.  "  He  is  able  to  defend  himself," 
closes  the  father's  lett-er,  "  in  terms  capable  of  causing 
you  an  eternal  repentance."  This  is  strong  language. 
But  when  Blaise  himself  began  calmly  to  answer 
Father  Noel's  objections,  taking  them  up  one  by  one, 
and  completely  disposing  of  them,  that  gentleman,  as 
we  shall  see,  apparently  thought  there  was  a  grain  of 
truth  mixed  with  paternal  pride. 

All  these  excitements,  labors,  and  experiments,  we 
are  to  remember,  were  carried  on  in  the  intervals  of 
(or  in  the  midst  of)  such  distressing  attacks  of  illness 
as  Gilberte  has  described  to  us ;  in  the  midst,  also, 
of  constantly  increasing  attention  to  Church  observ- 
ances and  religious  duties,  and  of  much  reading  of  de- 
votional books.    • 

Certainly  every  moment  must  have  been  fully  oc- 
cupied. 

We  can  not  help  suspecting,  with  Sainte-Beuve, 
that  Pascal's  ill-health  at  this  time^-the  tormenting 
headaches  from  which  he  suffered,  and  the  terribly 
shattered  condition  of  his  nervous  system — was  partly 
owing  to  the  mental  struggle  which  began  soon  after 
his  conversion.  This  was  a  conflict  between  his  con- 
science and  his  thirst  for  knowledge — the  two  most 
powerful  forces  of  his  nature — and  it  would  have 
been  strange  indeed  if  it  had  not  made  some  impres- 
sion on  the  sensitive  physical  frame. 


A  Happy  Year.  103 

One  of  the  books  which  the  good  brother  physi- 
cians had  lent  the  Pascals  during  that  winter  of  1646, 
was  a  little  discourse  of  Jansen's  on  the  "  Reforma- 
tion of  the  Interior  Man,"  and  in  it  the  ardent 
student  read  these  cruel  words  : 

"  There  is  another  desire  worse  than  that  of  the 
senses ;  more  misleading  because  it  appears  more 
honest.  This  is  that  always  restless  curiosity  .... 
which  has  been  palliated  by  the  name  of  science.  This 
makes  the  intellect  its  seat  of  empire,  ....  and  the 
world  is  all  the  more  corrupted  by  this  malady  of  the 
soul  because  it  is  concealed  under  the  veil  of  health, 
that  is  to  say,  of  science From  this  evil  princi- 
ple comes  research  into  the  secrets  of  nature  which 
do  not  concern  us,  which  it  is  useless  to  know,  and 
which  men  wish  to  know  only  for  the  sake  of  know- 
ing." 

There  are  several  pages  more  in  the  same  strain, 
and  we  wonder  if  the  good  bishop  did  not  mentally 
condemn  himself,  as  he  wrote  them,  for  his  own  de- 
light in  digging  out  Hebrew  and  Latin  roots ! 

But  whatever  the  protests  from  Pascal's  conscience, 
he,  as  yet,  kept  up  his  investigations  with  ardor  and, 
as  we  have  seen,  with  success. 

In  September  of  this  year  (1647)  the  brother  and 
sister  went  to  Paris,  partly,  it  would  seem,  to  seek 
medical  advice  for  Blaise,  and  partly  in  search  of 
recreation  for  him. 


I04  Sister  aiid  Saint. 

The  young  scientist's  reputation  brought  him  polile 
attention  from  many  distinguished  men,  and  Jacque- 
line mentions  some  of  them  in  the  following  letter  to 
Gilberte : 

"  My  very  dear  Sister  : — I  have  deferred  writ- 
ing to  you  because  I  wished  to  send  a  full  account  of 
my  brother's  interview  with  M.  Descartes,  and  had 
not  leisure  yesterday  to  tell  you  that  M.  Habert 
called  here  on  Sunday  evening,  accompanied  by  M. 
de  Montigny,  a  gentleman  of  Brittany,  and  as  my 
brother  was  at  church,  the  latter  informed  me  that 
his  fellow-townsman  and  intimate  friend,  M.  Des- 
cartes, had  expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  my  brother 
for  the  sake  of  the  great  esteem  in  which  he  and  my 
father  were  everywhere  held,  and  had  requested  him 
to  come  and  see  if  it  would  be  inconvenient  to  my 
brother  (whom  he  knew  to  be  an  invalid)  to  receive  a 
visit  from  M.  Descartes  the  next  morning  at  nine 
o'clock. 

"When  M,  de  Montigny  made  this  proposal  I  was 
puzzled  what  to  say,  knowing  the  difficulty  which 
Blaise  finds  in  exerting  himself  or  talking  in  the 
morning,  and  yet  not  thinking  it  right  to  decline  the 
call.  Finally  it  was  agreed  that  M.  Descartes  should 
delay  coming  till  half-past  ten,  and  accordingly  he 
came  at  that  hour,  in  company  vv^ith  M.  Habert,  M. 
de  Montigny,  a  young  ecclesiastic  whom  I  do  not 
know,  M.  de  Montigny's  son,  and  two  or  three  other 


A  Happy  Year.  105 


youths.  M.  de  Roberval,  to  whom  my  brother  had 
sent  word,  was  also  there. 

"  After  the  usual  civilities,  the  calculating  machine 
was  mentioned,  and  being  displayed  by  M.  de  Rober- 
val, was  very  much  admired.  They  then  began  to 
discuss  the  theory  of  the  vacuum,  and  M.  Descartes, 
on  being  told  of  an  experiment  and  asked  what  force 
he  thought  it  was  which  expelled  water  from  a  syringe, 
said  with  perfect  seriousness  that  it  was  subtle  matter; 
to  which  my  brother  made  what  answer  he  could ; 
and  M.  de  Roberval,  thinking  that  it  hurt  him  to  talk, 
took  up  the  reply  to  Descartes  with  some  warmth, 
though  with  perfect  civility.  But  the  latter  told  him, 
somewhat  sharply,  that  he  was  willing  to  talk  with 
my  brother  as  long  as  they  liked,  because  he  spoke 
rationally,  but  not  with  him  (M.  de  Roberval),  for  he 
was  prejudiced. 

"  Then,  perceiving  t^  his  watch  that  it  was  noon, 
and  having  an  invitation  to  dine  in  the  Faubourg  St. 
Germain,  he  took  leave ;  and  so  did  M.  de  Roberval, 
who  rode  back  with  M,  Descartes  in  a  carriage, 
where,  being  quite  alone,  they  sang  merry  songs  and 
were  rather  wild ;  that  is,  according  to  M.  de  Rober- 
val's  account,  who  returned  after  dinner  and  found 
M.  d'Alibrai  here.  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  say 
that  M.  Descartes,  sorry  that  he  could  only  stay  so 
short  a  time,  promised  my  brother  to  come  back  at 
eight  o'clock  the  next  morning 


io6  Sister  and  Saint. 

"  M.  Descartes  made  this  second  call,  partly  to  ad- 
vise my  brother  in  regard  to  his  illness,  concerning 
which,  however,  he  said  but  little,  merely  recom- 
mending him  to  remain  in  bed  every  day  as  long  as  he 
could  do  so  without  weariness,  and  to  take  strong 
broths.  They  conversed  on  many  other  subjects,  for 
he  stayed  till  eleven ;  but  I  can  not  tell  you  what 
they  were,  for  I  was  not  present  and  could  not  in- 
quire, having  been  very  busy  the  rest  of  the  day  in 
superintending  his  first  bath.  He  thought  the  bath 
made  his  head  ache,  but  the  water  being  too  warm 
perhaps  caused  this.  I  think  having  his  feet  bled 
Sunday  night  did  him  good,  for  he  was  able  to  speak 
Monday  quite  forcibly,  in  the  morning  to  M.  Des- 
cartes, and  in  the  afternoon  to  M.  de  Roberval,  with 
whom  he  held  a  long  argument  on  many  points  in 
theology  and  physics  without  any  further  inconveni- 
ence than  a  profuse  night-s\\*at  and  wakefulness.  I 
had  feared  a  severe  headache  after  so  much  exer- 
tion." .... 

Another  pleasant  letter  from  Paris  begins  thus : 
"We  can  not  tell  whether  this  letter  is  destined, 
like  the  other,  to  have  no  formal  close,  but  we  do 
know  that  when  writing  to  you  we  never  wish  to  leave 
off.  We  are  now  reading  M.  de  St.  Cyran's  letter, 
De  la  Vocation,  which  was  printed  a  short  time  since, 
and  has  gi\-en  great  offense.  You  shall  have  it  as 
soon  as  we  have  finished,  and  we  shall  be  glad  to 


A  Happy  Year.  107 

know  your  opinion  of  it  and  my  father's  also.  Its 
tone  is  very  high."  .... 

Descartes  was  not  their  only  distinguished  visitor. 
The  Reverend  Father  Noel  one  day  sent  one  of  his 
Jesuit  confreres  to  inquire  kindly  after  his  young  ad- 
versary's health.  He  very  much  feared  that  the  an- 
swer to  his  first  objection  (which  had  lately  been 
published  and  widely  read)  might  have  been  injurious 
to  the  writer.  He  begged  him  not  to  risk  his  precious 
health  again ;  in  short,  not  to  answer  him  any  more ! 
It  would  be  better  to  wait  till  they  could  argue  face 
to  face. 

"  I  avow,"  writes  Pascal  to  a  friend,  "  I  avow  to  you 
that  if  this  proposition  had  been  made  to  me  by  any- 
body but  these  good  Fathers  I  should  have  suspected 
it !  But  I  doubted  their  sincerity  so  little  that  I  gave 
them  my  promise  without  reserve." 

And  after  this  the  Jesuits  accused  him  of  having 
nothing  more  to  say  for  himself  against  Pere  Noel ! 

The  experiments  went  on,  however,  and  told  their 
own  story.  From  the  top  of  the  Tour  St.  Jacques 
young  Pascal  conducted  them  in  person,  and  tri- 
umphantly proved  the  theory  of  atmospheric^  pres- 
sure.*   You  may  see  his  statue  to-day  in  the  vaulted 


*  Pascal's  reasoning  was  this  :  If  atmospheric  pressure  is  the 
force  supporting  the  column  of  mercury,  then  that  column  will 
diminish  as  you  leave  "behind  it  successive  layers  of  that  weight. 
The  column  gradually  fell  in  ascending  the  tower,  and  as  gradually 
rose  in  descending,  and  thus  proved  his  hypothesis  correct.     This 


io8  Sister  and  Saint. 

chamber  at  the  foot  of  the  beautiful  tower,  and  many 
a  reader  of  this  page,  doubtless>  has  seen  it.  This 
achievement  alone  would  have  made  Pascal  famous. 
Yet  it  is  not  for  this  that  the  world  to-day  chiefly 
does  him  honor. 

To  make  assurance  doubly  sure,  Blaise  sent  to  his 
brother-in-law,  M.  Perier,  to  repeat  these  experiments 
at  Clermont  upon  the  Puy  de  Dome,  that  being  three 
thousand  feet  high,  whereas  the  Tour  St.  Jacques 
was  only  a  hundred  and  fifty.  Here,  also,  they  were 
brilliantly  successful. 

Bigotry  and  prejudice  had  nothing  more  to  say, 
and  the  old  doctrine  of  nature's  abhorrence  of  a 
vacuum  was  dropped  from  the  creed  of  science. 

Among  the  choicest  of  their  pleasures  in  Paris, 
Blaise  and  Jacqueline  Pascal  regarded  the  preaching 
of  M.  Singlin,  whom  they  often  heard  at  the  church 
of  Port  Royal  de  Paris.  Singlin  was  St.  Cyran's  suc- 
.  cessor  as  chaplain  and  confessor  of  the  convent.  He 
was  a  man  of  great  goodness  and  wisdom,  and  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  preachers  of  the  reformed  or 
reforming  party  in  the  Church. 

Through  their  own  pastor,  Guillebert,  they  ob- 
tained an  introduction  to  M.  Singlin  and,  in  due  time, 


is  simply  the  principle  of  the  barometer,  now  so  familiar.  Full  ac- 
counts of  these  experiments  and  their  results  are  given  in  many 
lives  of  Pascal,  and  a  very  clear  and  interesting  one  in  an  article  by 
Sir  David  Bre\vster  in  the  North  British  Review  for  August,  1844. 


A  Happy  Year.  109 

to  the  Abbess  Angelique  and  the  other  Port  Royal 
celebrities. 

And  so  this  happy  year  draws  to  its  close.  We 
like  to  linger  over  it.  It  is  a  beautiful  picture,  and  it 
ought  to  have  lasted  longer.  We  can  not  help  regret- 
ting that  what  seem  to  us  mistaken  notions  of  duty 
should  have  so  soon  destroyed  it.  We  can  not  help 
wishing  that  the  idea  of  becoming  a  nun,  which  now 
presented  itself  to  Jacqueline,  had  never  entered  her 
head.  We  wish  she  had  thought  it  right — had  seen 
it  right — to  let  her  light  shine  at  home,  and,  how- 
eVer  she  might  have  treated  the  offers  of  marriage 
now  coming  frequently,  we  are  told,  had,  at  least,  de- 
voted her  life  to  making  a  "  sunshine  in  a  shady 
place  "  for  the  father  and  brother  who  had  been,  and 
still  were,  so  much  to  her. 

What  such  a  girl  might  have  been,  at  home,  to  her 
own  immediate  family,  to  her  nephews  and  nieces,  to 
her  servants  and  her  poor,  to  the  noble  society  which 
opened  its  doors  so  freely  to  her — how  broadcast  she 
might  have  sown  her  precious  seed — how  widely  dif- 
fused the  leaven  of  her  sweet,  pure  life — it  is  impos- 
sible to  estimate.  And  no  student  of  her  character 
can  fail  to  feel  that  at  this  point  Jacqueline  Pascal 
made  the  mistake  of  her  life.  She  sought  too  high 
the  way  of  duty  and  missed  the  narrow,  sweetly- 
shaded  path  at  her  feet. 

Yet,  even  in  our  regret,  we  are  met  by  another 


no  Sister  and  Saint. 

thought : — that,  rwhatever  the  mistakes  of  a  consci  \ 
entious  soul,  through  those  very  mistakes,  sometimes 
by  direct  means  of  them,  that  soul  is  led  into  a  higher) 
place. 

Jacqueline  Pascal  had  entered  on  a  course  of  end- 
less progress.  She  was  going  on.  There  was  no 
such  thing  for  her  as  turning  back. 

As  the  brother  and  sister  have  shown  us  in  that 
happy  letter  of  theirs  quoted  at  the  beginning  of 
this  chapter,  they  had  made  up  their  minds  "to 
escape  falls  by  continually  climbing  higher."  They 
chose  a  way  to  climb  which  certainly  does  not  seem 
to  us  the  best  way.  But  it  brought  them  up  !  Was 
the  Lord  going  to  let  them  fall  because,  out  of  love 
for  Him,  they  chose  the  steepest  path? 

They  were  entering  into  life.  And  if  they  must 
pluck  out  the  right  eye  or  cut  off  the  right  hand  and 
enter  into  life  maimed — so  be  it !  Nevertheless, 
they  would  enter  in !  It  would  have  been  nobler  and 
better  to  our  thinking  if  they  could  have  entered  in 
whole — a  natural,  beautiful,  well-rounded  man  and 
woman,  as  God  created  them  to  be. 

A  rose  is  at  its  best  when,  rich  in  all  its  crimson 
beauty,  it  sends  up  its  breath  to  heaven.  But 
crushed  and  beaten  out  of  all  its  comeliness,  a  rose 
still  yields  a  rare  perfume. 


CLIMBING. 


IX. 

CLIMBING. 

SOME  notion  of  the  religious  training  of  the 
Pascal    family   under    Pastor    Guillebert    is 
given  us  in  this  passage  from  the  "  Memoirs 
of  Margaret  Perier,"  Gilberte's  daughter : 

"  My  father  and  mother,  while  at  Rouen,  were  under 
the  ministry  of  M.  Guillebert,  Doctor  of  the  Sorbonne, 
a  very  holy  and  discreet  man.  He  counseled  my 
mother,  who  was  then  twenty-six  years  old,  to  lay 
aside  all  her  ornaments  and  wear  no  trimmings  on 
her  dresses,  which  she  cheerfully  did.  When  she  was 
obliged  to  return  to  Clermont,  M.  Guillebert  told  her 
that  he  had  an  important  piece  of  advice  to  give  her, 
and  it  was  this  :  That  ladies  whose  piety  prevented 
them  from  wearing  ornaments  often  took  pleasure  in 
decorating  their  children,  and  that  she  must  be  care- 
ful to  avoid  doing  so,  gay  dress  being  far  more  inju- 
rious to  children,  who  are  naturally  fond  of  it,  than  to 
grown  persons,  who,  knowing  its  frivolity,  care  nothing 

(IT3) 


114  Sister  and  Saint. 

for  it.  Accordingly,  on  her  return  to  Clermont,  where 
she  had  left  my  sister,  then  a  little  over  four  years 
old,  and  myself,  then  not  quite  three,  she  found  that 
my  grandmother,  who  had  charge  of  us  in  her  absence, 
had  dressed  us  both  in  frocks  embroidered  with  silver 
and  fully  trimmed  with  ribbons  and  laces,  as  was  then 
the  fashion.  My  mother  took  everything  off  and 
clad  us  in  gray  camlet  without  lace  or  ribbon.  She 
forbade  our  nurse  to  let  us  play  with  two  little  girls 
of  our  own  age  in  the  neighborhood,  whom  we  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  seeing  every  day,  lest  we  should 
acquire  a  love  for  the  gay  garments  they  usually  wore. 
She  was  so  particular  on  this  point  that,  in  165 1,  when 
my  grandfather  Pascal  died,  and  she  was  obliged  to 
be  present  in  Paris  at  the  settlement  of  the  estate, 
she  chose  to  incur  the  expense  of  taking  us  with  her 
for  fear  that  my  grandmother  would  make  us  dress 
in  finer  clothes,  if  we  were  left  under  her  care.  She 
always  taught  us  to  wear  the  most  simple  and  modest 
clothing,  and  I  can  say  with  truth,  that  since  I  was 
between  two  and  three  years  old  I  have  never  worn 
either  gold,  silver,  colored  ribbons,  curls,  or  laces." 

"  Which  she  cheerfully  did  !  "  That  is  the  key-note. 
Madame  Perier,  and,  as  we  know  quite  well,  Jacque- 
line and  the  whole  family,  are  far  too  much  in  earnest 
to  mind  such  trifles  as  these. 

It  is  expected  of  them  that  they  shall  lay  aside 
their  ornaments,  and  they  do  so,  as  naturally  and  eas- 


Climbing.  115 

ilyas  some  simple-hearted  princess  puts  on  her  jewels, 
because  that  is  expected  of  her.  In  either  case  the 
ornaments  or  the  want  of  them  are  nothing. 

Neither  Gilberte  nor  Jacqueline  ever  allude  to 
anything  they  have  given  up  or  write  in  a  way  that 
suggests  sacrifice.  It  was  not  sacrifice  to  them.  As 
Mrs.  Charles  has  so  well  said  in  regard  to  another 
noble  woman  :  "  Not  that  she  painfully  denied  herself 
luxuries.  In  the  coinage  of  the  kingdom  where  she 
dwelt  they  were  simply  valueless," 

But  when  the  question  of  giving  up  came  to  Blaise, 
then,  indeed,  it  became  a  vital  and  a  painful  thing. 

Those  words  of  Jansen's  which  we  have  quoted  are 
but  a  sample  of  what  was  to  be  found  in  many  6ther 
of  the  best  books  of  the  day,  and  the  young  disciple 
heard  on  all  sides  the  call  to  sacrifice  mind  and  heart 
and  soul  and  strength  for  Christ's  sake  and  the  Gos- 
pel's. The  Roman  Catholic  Church  has  always  re- 
garded human  nature  not  as  a  servant  to  be  trained 
for  the  Master's  use,  but  as  a  foe,  to  be  subdued  and 
crushed.  There  are  other  Christians  who  act  upon 
the  same  theory.  It  is  a  terribly  dangerous  theory, 
for  it  results  in  the  majority  of  men  and  women 
living  in  opposition  to  conscience,  and  nothing  can  be 
so  blighting  as  that  to  all  true  growth  of  soul. 

The  struggle  in  Pascal's  mind  is  evident  in  many 
A^ays.  About  this  time  he  composed  fifteen  prayers 
for  use  in  sickness.     "  Lord,"  he  cries  out  in  one  of 


ii6  Sister  and  Samt. 


them,  "  I  know  myself  to  be  certain  of  but  this  one 
thing.  It  is  good  to  follow  Thee.  It  is  evil  to  offend 
Thee.  Beyond  this  I  am  ignorant  of  what  is  best  or 
worst  for  me."  It  is  a  glimpse  into  his  secret  heart — 
perplexed  and  troubled,  yet  making  sure  of  the  one 
main  truth  in  which  alone  is  safety. 

The  account  of  the  atmospherical  experiments  was 
followed  quickly  by  two  treatises  on  hydrostatics. 
Then  the  physicians  took  sides  with  conscience  and 
forbade  all  scientific  studies — forbade,  indeed,  all  men- 
tal exertion — and  there  followed  an  effort  at  self- 
annihilation  more  painful  than  all  the  struggles. 
Surely,  at  this  time,  if  ever,  Blaise  Pascal  needed  his 
twin  sister  ! 

The  brother  and  sister,  apparently,  never  returned 
to  Rouen,  for  in  May,  1648,  M.  Pascal  was  appointed 
Councillor  of  State,  and  returned  to  make  his  home 
in  Paris. 

During  the  winter  they  became  better  acquainted 
with  their  new  friends,  and  regularly  attended  church 
at  the  convent  chapel  of  Port  Royal. 

Port  Royal  was  no  common  convent,  as  all  of  us 
know  who  have  read  the  lives  of  that  noble  band  of 
v/omen  who  worked  and  worshiped  within  its  walls. 
"  My  sister  came  to  the  conclusion,"  says  Madame 
Perier,  "  that  here,  to  use  her  own  expression,  one 
might  reasonably  be  a  nun. 

"  She  perceived  from  M.  Singlin's  preaching  that 


Climbing:  117 

his  ideas  of  a  Christian's  Hfe  were  in  accordance  with 
those  she  had  formed  since  God  .first  touched  her 
heart. 

"  She  imparted  her  thoughts  to  my  brother,  who, 
far  from  dissuading  her,  encouraged  her,  for  he  was 
imbued  with  similar  views.  His  approbation  so 
strengthened  lief  that  thenceforth  she  never  wavered 
in  the  design  of  devoting  herself  to  God." 

"  My  brother,"  Gilberte  says  again, ''  who  loved  her 
with  especial  tenderness,  was  delighted  with  her  proj- 
ect, and  thought  of  nothing  but  how  he  should  aid 

her  to   accomplish  it My  sister  visited  Port 

Royal  as  often  as  the  great  distance  of  her  dwelling 
would  permit,  and  the  Abbesses  told  her  to  place 
herself  under  the  charge  of  M.  Singlin,  in  order  that 
he  might  judge  if  she  were  truly  called  to  a  cloFstered 
life.  She  did  not  fail  to  obey,  and  from  the  very  first 
time  that  M.  Singlin  saw  her,  he  told  my  brother  that 
he  had  never  known  so  strongly-marked  a  vocation. 
This  testimony  was  a  great  comfort  to  my  brother, 
and  it  made  him  doubly  anxious  for  the  success  of  a 
design  which  he  had  every  reason  to  believe  was  of 
God.  All  this  occurred  in  the  early  part  of  the  year 
1648,  when  my  brother  and  sister  were  at  Paris  and 
my  father  at  Rouen." 

The  brother's  unselfish  love  comes  out  nobly  here, 
and  his  genuine  sympathy  with  the  highest  and  best 
in  his  sister.     True  unity  of  spirit  is  that  when  each 


Ii8  Sister  and  Saint. 


can  rejoice  in  the  sacrifice  the  other  makes !  True 
love  is  that  which  can  allow  the  beloved  one  to  re- 
nounce ! 

Because  "he  loved  her  with  an  especial  tender- 
ness," therefore  "  he  was  delighted  with  her  project " 
of  dying  to  the  world,  to  her  home,  to  her  youth,  to 
her  fame,  to  himself  forever.  He  was,  in  fact,  one 
with  her  in  the  matter ;  he  saw  it  through  her  eyes 
and  felt  it  through  her  heart. 

And  Jacqueline  herself?  How  was  it  with  her? 
Was  there  no  conflict  in  her  heart  ?  Was  there  no 
pain  to  her  in  this  wrench  from  a  life  which  had  been 
so  pleasant  and  a  home  which  had  been  so  dear  ?  It 
can  scarcely  have  been  otherwise  with  such  a  girl  as 
she ;  yet  we  have  no  hint  of  any  such  thing.  From 
the  first  she  seems  to  have  thrown  into  this  project 
the  same  enthusiasm  which  she  threw  into  her  childish 
play-acting  and  versifying. 

It  seems  to  have  been  Pleasure  that  beckoned,  not 
Duty  that  called.  Her  letters  are  full  of  it.  She  can 
speak  of  little  else,  and  she  prays  for  grace  to  restrain 
her  ardor,  not  for  grace  to  endure  the  trial.  The 
whole  current  of  her  desires,  in  fact,  has  changed  its 
course.  She  is  filled,  as  Cousin  says,  with  "  an  in- 
vincible passion  for  solitude  and  the  monastic  life." 

We  have  said  there  was  no  hint  of  a  regret.  There 
is,  among  Jacqueline  Pascal's  collected  verses,  a  little 
poem,  without   date,  which    Reuchlin   (her  German 


^  Climbing,  119 

Diographer)   thinks   must   have   been   written   about 
this  time.    He  calls  it  the  "  Swan-song  of  the  poetess 
ere  she  laid  her  gift  on  the  altar  of  her  God." 
Here  are  the  verses  : 

'  O,  ye  dark  forests,  in  whose  sombre  shades 
Night  finds  a  noonday  lair. 
Silence  a  sacred  refuge  !  to  your  glades 

A  stranger,  worn  with  care 
And  weary  of  life's  jostle,  would  repair. 
He  asks  no  medicine  for  his  fond  heart's  pain ; 
He  breaks  j^our  stillness  with  no  piercing  cry; 
He  comes  not  to  complain, 
He  only  comes  to  die  ! 

*  To  die  among  the  busy  haunts  of  men 
Were  to  betray  his  woe  ; 
But  these  thick  woods  and  this  sequester'd  glen 

No  trace  of  suffering  show. 
Here  would  he  die  that  none  his  wound  may  know. 
Ye  need  not  dread  his  weeping — tears  are  vain — 
Here  let  him  perish  and  unheeded  lie ; 
He  comes  not  to  complain. 
He  only  comes  to  die  !  " 

It  is  one  of  the  prettiest  poems  she  ever  wrote, 
but  it  must  always  be  a  matter  of  mere  conjecture 
whether  Reuchlin's  theory  is  correct.  If  this  is  an 
expression  of  her  own  feelings,  certainly  not  another 
line  of  all  she  ever  wrote,  not  a  word  of  her  brother's 
letters,  or  her  sister's  *'  Memoirs,"  or  Margaret 
Perier's  "  Recollections,"  gives  us  any  reason  to  think 
of  her  as,  at  any  time,  "worn  with  care,"  or  "weary 
of  life's  jostle."    Moreover,  after  the  "  Stanzas  thank- 


I20  Sister  and  Sqmt. 

ing  God  for  recovery  from  the  Small-pox,"  written 
in  her  childhood,  there  are  none  of  her  verses  which 
have  a  personal  bearing.  They  are  all  Sonnets,  Songs, 
Serenades,  To  a  Lady,  To  the  Queen,  to  St.  Cecilia, 
For  an  Album,  etc.,  etc.,  according  to  the  fashion  of 
the  day. 

Many  a  girl  of  poetic  temperament  might  easily 
find  herself  in  the  mood  to  write  such  a  song  as  this, 
who  yet  would  not  wish  to  have  it  regarded  .as  an 
expression  of  personal  feeling.  And  more  than  all, 
Cousin,  who  is  probably  Jacqueline  Pascal's  most 
thorough  student  and  critic,  makes  no  allusion  to 
such  a  theory,  and  places  the  poem  among  those  of 
earlier  date. 

In  a  nature  like  hers,  it  seems  to  us  the  internal 
strife  would  not  have  been  heralded  in  verse ;  and  if 
it  had  been,  something  like  this  would  more  likely 
have  been  her  song : 

"  Sweet  is  the  smile  of  home  :  the  mutual  look 

When  hearts  are  of  each  other  sure  ; 
Sweet  all  the  joys  that  crowd  the  household  nook, 

The  haunt  of  all  affections  pure  ; 
Yet  in  the  world  even  these  abide,  and  we 

Above  the  %vorld  our  calling  boast ; 
Once  gain  the  mountain-top  and  thou  art  free, 

Till  then,  who  rest,  presume  ;  who  turn  to  look  are  lost."  ♦ 

Whatever  the  conflict  that  did  go  on  in  Jacqueline 


*  "  Keble's  Christian  Year."     First  Sunday  in  Lent. 


Climbing.  121 

Pascal's  heart,  it  was  almost  immediately  forgotten — 
swallowed  up — in  victory. 

Vinet,  in  a  fine  essay  on  her  character,  compares 
her  Christian  course  to  the  military  life  of  the  great 
Prince  of  Conde,  who  leaped  at  once  to  fame  by  in- 
sisting on  his  own  plans,  against  the  advice  of  older 
generals,  and  carrying  them  out  successfully  in  his 
first  battle,  Rocroy.  "  It  is  not  the  fate,"  says  Vinet, 
"  of  ever^'  gallant  spirit  to  begin  its  career  with  a 
Rocroy  that  shall  at  once  put  its  greatness  beyond 
the  pale  of  doubt  forever.  What  was  Jacqueline 
Pascal's  Rocroy  ?  An  internal  victory  witnessed  by 
God  alone,  and  owing  more  than  half  its  grandeur  to 
the  clouds  in  which  it  was  enshrouded.  To  annihi- 
late self,  and  then  to  efface  the  most  minute  traces 
of  that  very  annihilation — that  was  the  task  of  this 
heroic  girl." 

And  because  her  enthusiasm  was  the  enthusiasm 
of  victory,  we  see  it  lasting  through  her  whole  life 
and  rising  superior  to  every  discouragement  and 
obstacle.  It  was  no  mere  short-lived  ardor,  the 
first  warm  outflow  of  a  loving  nature,  gradually  quiet- 
ing and  cooling  as  time  went  on.  She  had  abun- 
dance of  time  to  reconsider,  as  we  shall  see,  and  she 
had  every  encouragement  to  do  so.  But  there  is 
no  evidence  of  a  moment's  shrinking  from  the  life 
she  had  chosen.    From  her  brother  we  have  mournful 

confessions  of  a  relapse  into  what  he  considered  world- 
6 


122  Sister  and  Saint. 

liness,  and  Madame  Perier's  letters  in  later  years 
show  an  occasional  interest  in  earthly  and  secular 
matters.  But  in  Jacqueline  there  is,  from  beginning 
to  end,  the  same  calm,  equable  flow  of  assurance  of 
her  high  vocation  and  sacred  joy  in  it. 

In  May  M.  Pascal  arrived  in  Paris,  and  now  it  be- 
came necessary  to  inform  him  of  Jacqueline's  resolu- 
tion. 

Evidently  everybody  dreaded  this  duty.  "  M. 
Singlin  thought  he  ought  to  be  told,"  says  Gilberte, 
and  again,  "  My  brother  undertook  to  tell  him.  There 
was  no  one  else  who  could."  "  The  proposal,"  she 
continues,  "  surprised  and  strangely  agitated  my 
father.  On  the  one  hand,  having  begun  to  love  the 
principles  of  a  pure  Christianity,  he  was  glad  to  have 
his  children  like-minded ;  but,  on  the  other,  his  affection 
for  my  sister  was  so  deep  and  tender  that  he  could 
not  resolve  to  give  her  up  forever.  These  conflicting 
thoughts  made  him  at  first,  answer  that  he  would  see 
and  think  about  it.  But  finally,  after  some  vacilla- 
tions, he  said  plainly  that  he  would  never  give  his 
consent,  and  even  complained  that  my  brother  had 
encouraged  the  plan  without  knowing  v/hether  it 
would  meet  his  approval.  This  consideration  made 
him  so  angry  with  my  brother  and  sister,  that  he  lost 
his  confidence  in  thcni,  and  ordered  an  old  waiting- 
woman  who  had  brought  them  both  up,  to  watch 
their  movements.     This  was  a  great  restraint  upon 


Climbing.  123 

my  sister,  for  she  could  not  go  to  Port  Royal  except 
by  stealth,  nor  see  M.  Singlin  without  some  contriv- 
ance or  dexterous  excuse." 

Here,  then,  was  a  sad  state  of  things  between  this 
daughter,  hitherto  so  faithful,  and  the  father  who 
"  loved  her  v/ith  unusual  tenderness." 

But  Jacqueline  thought  herself  justified  in  secretly 
evading  his  will,  though  she  would  not  openly  dis- 
obey him.  "  Though  under  many  restrictions  she 
did  not  give  up  her  occasional  visits  to  Port  Royal, 
nor  her  correspondence  with  its  inmates,  ivJiich  she 
managed  zvith  much  tact  !  " 

Our  fancy  follows  the  plainly-robed  figure,  quickly 
threading  the  narrow  streets  of  the  old  *'  Latin 
Quarter  "  for  some  brief  appointment  with  her  con- 
fessor, fearful,  perhaps,  at  every  corner,  of  meeting 
her  father  or  seeing  the  face  of  the  old  waiting- 
woman  peering  at  her  from  behind  some  little  shop- 
window.  She  passes  the  Hotel  Cluny,  where  a  few 
years  before  she  might  have  found  the  M^re  Angel- 
ique  and  some  of  her  nuns.  She  passes  the  Sor- 
bonne,  and  it  frowns  upon  her.  At  last  she  is  "  quite 
in  the  country"  and  stops  before  "a  noble  house  with 
magnificent  gardens."  Church,  school-house,  infirm- 
aries, storehouses,  and  offices  cluster  about  it.  This 
is  Port  Royal  de  Paris,  now  "  La  Maternite,"  one  of 
the  largest  hospitals  of  Paris. 

The  dear  Mothers  Ang61ique  and  Agnes  loved  verv 


124  Sister  and  Saini. 

tenderly  this  warm-hearted  young  disciple.  Yet  they 
were  far  too  true  and  upright  to  urge  her  coming  to 
them  till  she  could  obtain  her  father's  full  permis- 
sion. 

"  I  am  as  truly,  dear  child,  your  spiritual  mother," 
says  Angelique,  ''  as  if  you  were  already  within  the 
convent  walls."  And  Agnes  writes  to  her:  "You  are 
already  a  nun,  my  dear  sister,  because  you  have  de- 
termined to  obey  the  call  which  God  has  given  you  ; 
but  you  will  cease  to  be  one.  if  you  wish  to  forestall 
the  precise  moment  of  your  profession  which  God 
has  put  in  His  own  power."  "  It  is  your  duty  to  fol- 
low God's  guidance  and  to  endure  with  meekness  the 
delays  occasioned  by  His  providence.  There  is  quite 
as  much  sin  in  wishing  to  anticipate  the  will  of  God 
as  there  would  be  in  not  obeying  it  at  the  proper 
time." 

Toward  the  end  of  this  year,  1648,  we  find  the  last 
of  the  joint  letters  from  Blaise  and  Jacqueline  to 
their  sister.  It  is  much  too  long  to  give  entire,  but 
some  extracts  will  serve  to  show  its  tenor : 

"And  now  we  have  a  little  private  scolding  for 
yourself.  What  made  you  say  that  you  had  learned 
everything  in  your  letter  from  me  ?  For  I  have  no 
recollection  of  having  spoken  to  you  on  the  subject. 
And  were  what  you  say  true,  I  should  fear  that  you 
had  learned  the  lesson  in  a  wrong  spirit,  or  you  would 
have  lost  the  thought  of  the  human  teacher  in  think- 


Climbing.  125 


ing  of   God,   who   alone   who   can    make   the   truth 

effectual Not  that  we  are  to  be  ungrateful  or 

forgetful  of  those  who  have  instructed  us  when 
duly  authorized,  as  priests,  bishops,  and  confessors 
are.  They  are  teachers  and  other  men  are  their 
disciples.  But  it  is  very  different  in  our  case,  and 
as  the  angel  refused  to  be  worshiped  by  one  who 
was  his  fellow-servant,  so  we  must  beg  you  not  to 
pay  us  such  compliments  again,  nor  to  use  expres- 
sions of  human  gratitude,  since  we  are  but  learners 
like  yourself."  .... 

"  The  perseverance  of  the  saints  is  neither  more 
nor  less  than  God's  grace  perpetually  imparted,  and 
not  given  once  for  all,  in  a  mass  that  is  to  last  for- 
ever. This  teaches  us  how  completely  we  are  de- 
pendent on  God's  mercy ;  for  if  He  should  for  a 
moment  withhold  the  sap  of  His  grace  we  should 
wither  away."  .... 

"  Fear  not  to  remind  us  of  things  we  already  know. 
They  need  to  sink  deeper  into  our  hearts,  and  your 
discourse  will  be  more  likely  to  fix  them  there.  And 
besides,  divine  grace  is  given  in  answer  to  prayer, 
and  your  love  for  us  is  one  of  those  prayers  ivJiicJi  go 
up  without  ceasing  before  the  Throned 

M.  Perier  was  at  that  time  building  a  country- 
seat,  which  still  stands  at  Bienassis,  near  the  gates  of 
Clermont.  The  brother  and  sister  refer  to  it  in  this 
way: 


126  Sister  and  Saint. 

"  We  have  nothing  special  to  say  to  you  unless 
about  the  plan  of  your  house.  We  know  that  M. 
Perier  is  too  earnest  in  what  he  undertakes  to  be  able 
to  give  full  attention  to  two  things  at  once  ;  and  the 
whole  plan  is  so  extensive  that  if  he  carry  it  out  it 

must  engross  his  thoughts  for  a  long  time So 

we  have  advised  him  to  build  on  a  more  moderate 
scale,  and  only  that  which  is  absolutely  necessary. 
....  We  beg  you  to  think  seriously  of  this  and  to 
second  our  advice,  lest  he  should  be  more  prudent 
and  take  more  pains  in  the  erection  of  a  house  which 
he  is  not  obliged  to  rear  than  in  the  building  of  that 
mystic  tower  whereof  St.  Augustine  speaks  in  one  of 
his  letters,  which  he  is  solemnly  pledged  to  finish. 
Adieu.     B.  P. J.  P." 

Then  follows  a  postscript  by  Jacqueline : 

"  I  hope  soon  to  write  about  my  own  concerns,  and 
give  you  full  particulars ;  meantime,  pray  to  God  for 
my  success."  And  after  that  a  line  in  her  brother's, 
handwriting:  ''If  you  know  any  charitable  souls,  be- 
speak their  prayers  for  me,  too."  Poor  Blaise  !  An- 
other glimpse  into  his  troubled  heart ! 

By  her  "  own  concerns,"  Jacqueline,  of  course, 
means  her  plan  of  going  into  the  convent.  She  let 
slip  no  opportunity  of  announcing  her  determination 
to  take  the  veil,  and,  though  yielding  literal  obedi- 
ence to  her  father  in  not  leaving  his  house,  she 
thought  it  right  to  prove  to  him  by  her  manner  of 


Climbijig.  127 

life  that  she  was  immovable  in  her  decision.  If  she 
could  not  be  a  nun  at  Port  Royal,  she  would  be  a 
nun  at  home.     Her  sister  says : 

"  The  difficulties  she  met  with  did  not  lessen  her 
zeal,  and  having  renounced  the  world  in  heart,  she 
no  longer  took  the  same  delight  as  formerly  in 
amusements.  So  that,  although  for  a  while  she  con- 
cealed her  intention  of  devoting  herself  to  God,  it 
was  easily  perceived,  and  she  then  withdrew  from 
society  and  broke  off  suddenly  from  all  her  acquaint- 
ance. For  this  a  favorable  opportunity  was  offered 
by  my  father's  changing  his  residence.  She  made  no 
acquaintances  in  her  new  neighborhood,  and  escaped 
from  her  old  ones  by  never  visiting  them.  Thus  she 
found  herself  at  liberty  to  live  in  solitude,  which  be- 
came so  pleasant  to  her  that  she  gradually  retired 
even  from  the  family  circle,  and  sometimes  spent  the 
whole  day  alone  in  her  chamber.  It  is  impossible  to 
say  how  she  employed  herself  in  this  perfect  soli- 
tude, but  each  day  it  could  be  perceived  that  she  was 
visibly  growing  in  grace." 

Her  determination  was  not  without  its  effect  on 
her  father.     Madame  Perier  says  again  : 

"  My  father  was  well  persuaded  that  she  ,had 
chosen  the  better  part,  and  parental  tenderness  alone 
made  him  oppose  her  project.  Finding,  therefore, 
that  each  day  only  strengthened  her  resolve,  he  told 
her  that  he  saw  plainly  the  world  had  no  interest  for 
% 


128  Sister  and  Saint. 

her,  that  he  fully  approved  her  design  and  would 
promise  never  to  listen  to  any  proposals  for  her  set- 
tlement in  marriage,  however  advantageous,  but  that 
he  begged  of  her  not  to  leave  him,  that  his  life  would 
not  be  very  long,  and  that  if  she  would  only  be 
patient  till  its  close,  he  would  allow  her  to  live  as  she 
chose  at  home.  She  thanked  him,  but  made  no  posi- 
tive answer  to  his  entreaty  that  she  would  not  leave 
him,  promising,  however,  that  he  should  never  have 
any  reason  to  complain  of  her  disobedience." 

Some  time  after  she  had  entered  on  this  way  of 
life,  the  father,  brother,  and  sister  made  a  visit  to- 
gether at  Clermont. 

"  She  greatly  dreaded  this  journey,"  says  Madame 
Perier,  "because  of  the  influx  of  relatives  and  com- 
pany to  which  one  is  exposed  in  a  little  country 
town,  and  accordingly  she  wrote  me  that  in  order  to 
avoid  this  probable  embarrassment,  she  thought  I 
had  better  publicly  announce  her  determination,  to 
take  the  veil,  and  that  her  profession  was  only  de- 
ferred out  of  respect  for  my  father's  wishes.  I  did 
not  fail  to  fulfill  my  commission,  and  it  succeeded  so 
well  that  on  her  arrival  no  one  was  surprised  to  see 
her  dressed  like  an  old  woman,  with  great  simplicity, 
nor  that  after  having  returned  the  first  calls  of  civil- 
ity, she  shut  herself  up,  not  merely  in  the  house,  but 
in  her  room,  which  she  left  only  to  go  to  church  or 
to  take  her  meals,  and  into  which  none  ever  intruded. 

if 


Climbing.  129 

So  that  even  in  my  own  case,  if  I  had  anything  to 
tell  her,  I  used  to  make  a  little  memorandum  or  some 
kind  of  mark,  that  I  might  remember  it  when  she 
came  to  table  or  on  our  way  to  church,  whither  we 
always  went  together.  This  was  my  best  opportunity 
of  speaking  to  her,  though  very  short,  as  we  had  not 
far  to  go.  Not  that  she  forbade  me  or  any  one  else 
to  enter  her  room,  nor  that  she  refused  to  listen,  but 
that  we  saw  whenever  her  thoughts  were  called  off 
in  order  to  talk  on  subjects  not  absolutely  necessary, 
it  evidently  tired  and  wearied  her  so  much  that  we 
tried  to  avoid  giving  her  the  annoyance." 

This  was  the  state  of  things  in  the  family  for  the 
next  three  years,  while  M.  Pascal  appears  to  have 
been  vibrating  between  Paris,  Rouen,  and  Clermont, 
and  Blaise  was  fulfilling,  as  best  he  could,  that  wise 
prescription  of  the  doctors,  to  think  of  nothing,  have 
no  cares,  and  lead  a"  happy  life. 

6* 


PORT    ROYAL    AND    THE    MfeRE 
ANGfiLIQUE. 


X. 


PORT  ROYAL  AND   THE    M^RE  ANG^LIQUE. 


.^P^ORT  ROYAL  is  another  of  those  charmed 
I  ^  names  of  history.  And  it  is  worth  noticing 
that  its  charm  is  simply  the  pure  halo  of  good- 
ness— goodness  so  thorough  and  direct  that  the  world 
has  called  it  heroism. 

No  famous  battles,  visible  to  the  eye  of  flesh,  were 
ever  fought  in  that  narrow  valley  of  Chevreuse,  and 
few  stirring  events  took  place  there  till  the  very  last 
years  of  the  convent's  five  centuries  of  life. 

Neither  is  tljere  anything  imposing  or  strikingly 
beautiful  in  the  natural  features  of  the  place.  The 
nuns  came  to  love  it  as  we  all  love  our  homes,  and 
some  c'f  them,  in  their  letters  affectionately  refer  to 
the  peaceful,  church-like  vale,  with  its  walls  of  wooded 
hills  and  its  high,  blue,  starry  roof. 

But  Madame  de  Sevigne,  who  looked  at  it  through 
quite  other,  though  not  unfriendly,  eyes,  speaks  of  it 
as  "  un  desert  .affreux."     And  in  reality  it  was  an  ill- 

(133) 


T34  Sister  and  Saint. 

drained  (rather  an  un-drained),  marshy  spot,  full  of 
confined  and  noxious  airs,  and  owing  its  very  name  to 
the  corrupt  Latin  word  porra,  which  means  "  a  hol- 
low, overgrown  with  brambles,  containing  stagnant 
water." 

This  valley,  the  site  of  the  original  convent,  known 
as  Port  Royal  des  Champs,  lies  about  eighteen  miles 
from  Paris,  on  the  road  between  Versailles  and  Chev- 
reuse.  From  the  restored  splendors  of  Louis  Four- 
teenth's court  one  may  drive  in  about  an  hour  to  this 
neglected  spot.  There,  a  recent  visitor  tells  us,  "  noth- 
ing of  interest  remains  to-day  but  a  ruined  fragment 
of  wall  to  which  has  been  built  a  rough,  shed-like 
structure,  surmounted  by  a  wooden  cross."  Under 
this  shelter  there  have  been  collected  a  few  portraits, 
among  them  those  of  Agnes  Arnauld,  Jansen,  St. 
Cyran,  Racine,  and  Pascal. 

The  history  of  Port  Royal,  from  its  foundation  in 
1208  till  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century,  does  not 
concern  us.  It  is  but  the  common  and  painful  stoiy 
of  many  so-called  "  religious  houses." 

A  convent  in  theory  was  a  beautiful  thing,  a  place 
where  humility,  chastity,  poverty,  obedience,  self-de- 
nial, and  charity  prevailed.  A  convent  in  reality  was 
often  a  place  where  unmarriageable  women  led  lives 
as  easy  and,  in  many  cases,  as  sinful  as  a  very  lax 
discipline  would  permit. 

Under  Angelique  Arnauld  the  theory  became  the 


Port  Royal  and  the  Mere  A^tgelique.  135 

reality,  and  if  we  first  glance  at  her  life  and  character 
we  shall  best  read  the  true  story  of  Port  Royal. 

The  story  of  this  noble  and  charming  woman  is 
more  fascinating  than  many  a  romance.  At  seven 
years  of  age  she  finds  herself  a  nun,  at  eleven  years 
an  abbess,  while  her  little  sister  Agnes,  six  years  old, 
takes  the  same  office  in  the  neighboring  convent  of 
St.  Cyr.  For  the  Arnaulds  are  a  large  family — 
twenty  children  in  all — and  something  must  be  done 
with  these  little  girls  or  there  will  not  be  marriage 
dowries  enough  for  all. 

Only  ten  of  the  twenty  children  lived  to  grow  up  ; 
but  of  these — six  daughters  and  four  sons — every  one 
was  famous.  And  as  we  shall  meet  some  of  them  occa- 
sionally at  Port  Royal,  a  few  words  of  introduction, 
just  here,  may  not  come  amiss. 

First  in  age  came  d'Andilly,  so  named  from  his  es- 
tate, whom  we  may  remember  as  the  "  friend  par  ex- 
cellence'' of  St.  Cyran.  He  was  a  noble,  generous, 
talented  man,  full  of  winning  qualities.  He  was  very 
popular  at  court,  and  it  was  through  his  influence  that 
many  of  the  royal  and  noble  converts  to  the  truth 
were  made.  It  was  through  him  that  the  Duchess 
d'Aiguillon  became  interested  in  St.  Cyran  and  visited 
him  at  Vincennes. 

Next  to  d'Andilly  came  the  eldest  sister,  Madame 
le  Maitre,  in  reference  to  whom  Angclique,  when  a 
little  girl,  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  how  unlucky  I   am  to  be 


136  Sister  aiid  Saint. 

the  second  daughter,  for  if  I  had  been  the  eldest,  I 
should  have  been  the  one  to  be  married !  " 

Madame  le  Maitre's  "  luck,"  however,  was  but  poor. 
Her  marriage  was  anything  but  happy,  and  years 
afterward  she  came,  only  too  gladly,  to  seek  refuge  in 
her  sister's  convent.  She  brought  with  her  a  humble, 
tender  heart  and  a  practical  head,  and  was  a  great 
favorite  in  the  house.  Before  she  took  the  veil,  and 
thus  gave  up  all  claim  to  her  property,  she  obtained 
permission  to  visit  all  the  offices  of  the  convent  and 
ascertain  what  was  wanting  in  them.  "  My  sisters," 
she  said  to  the  nuns,  "  tell  me  all  your  little  wants, 
for  before  long  I  shall  have  nothing  to  give  away." 
And  then,  like  a  good  housewife,  she  set  everything 
in  order,  and  provided  whatever  seemed  necessary  for 
the  comfort  and  convenience  of  the  household. 

Next  on  the  family  list  come  Angelique  and  Agnes, 
who  were  early  disposed  of  as  we  have  seen.  Their 
grandfather,  M.  Marion,  was  a  friend  of  the  king, 
who  conferred  ecclesiastical  dignities,  and  the  pope's 
sanction  was  easily  obtained  by  sending  to  Rome 
false  certificates  of  the  children's  age.  Nobody  seems 
to  have  regarded  this  step  as  a  particularly  dishonor- 
able one.  "  The  king  only  laughed,"  we  are  told, 
*'  to  think  how  his  Holiness  had  been  tricked."  The 
children  themselves,  however,  took  the  matter  more 
seriously.  When  their  grandfather  informed  them  of 
their  fate,  Angelique  •'  ran  off  into  a  long  gallery,  cry- 
ing with  vexation  anc  anger." 


Port  Royal  and  the  Mere  Angelique.   137 

"  But,"  explained  her  grandfather,  "  I  shall  make 
you  an  abbess,  tJie  mistress  of  all  the  others." 

This  promise  consoled  her  a  little,  and  she  finally 
said  :  "  Grandpapa,  if  you  wish  me  to  be  a  nun,  I  will 
be  a  nun  ;  but  not  unless  you  make  me  an  abbess." 

'And  I,"  said  Agnes,  "  I  am  willing  to  be  a  nun 
too ;  but  I  don't  want  t^  be  an  abbess." 

A  few  days  later  they  \/ere  again  in  their  grand- 
father's study,  and  the  little  Agnes  spoke  up : 
"  Grandpapa,  I  have  quite  made  up  my  mind  not  to 
be  an  abbess,  for  they  say  an  abbess  has  to  answer  to 
God  for  the  souls  of  her  nuns,  and  I  am  sure  I  shall 
have  quite  enough  to  do  to  save  my  own." 

*'  But  /  want  to  be  an  abbess,"  said  Angelique 
eagerly,  "  and  I  shall  take  good  care  that  my  nuns  do 
their  duty  and  behave  well." 

The  characteristics  shown  in  this  childish  conversa- 
tion remained  with  the  sisters  through  life.  Angelique 
was  born  to  command — to  lead  other  souls  with  her 
own  "  to  glory  and  virtue."  Agnes  was  timid,  shrink- 
ing, and  though  full  of  charity  and  good  works, 
much  occupied  with  her  own  growth  in  grace. 

Henri  Arnauld  was  the  next  child,  and  he  became 
famous  as  bishop  of  Angers  and  Cardinal  Mazarin's 
ambassador  at  the  Papal  Court. 

Then  comes  ''  Sister  Anne,"  of  whom  we  shall  see 
more  as  Jacqueline  Pascal's  predecessor  in  teaching 
the  convent  school,  and  after  her,  Marie  Claire,  the 


Sister  and  Saint. 


one  whose  struggle  against  St.  Cyran's  influence  we 
have  recorded. 

A  valiant  soldier,  Simon  Arnauld,  is  the  next  child, 
and  next  to  him  the  pretty  Madeleine,  of  whom  St. 
Francis  de  Sales  predicted  when  she  was  a  child  tTiat 
she  would  become  a  nun  if  her  mirror  did  not  stand 
in  the  way.  It  did  not  stand  in  the  way.  At  fifteen 
she  became  a  novice,  and  in  due  time  entered  the  sis- 
terhood at  Port  Royal. 

The  tAventieth  and  last  child  was  Antoine,  known 
as  the  "great  Arnauld."  He  was  twenty-four  years 
younger  than  his  eldest  brother,  dAndilly,  and  his 
nephew  Le  Maitre  was  some  years  older  than  he. 
It  would  take  a  volume  merely  to  mention  all  that 
this  great  man  did  and  all  that  he  wrote  in  the  cause 
of  Jansenism  and  of  theological  truth  as  he  viewed  it. 
He  worked  hand  in  hand  with  Blaise  Pascal,  and  the 
two  were  devoted  friends,  though  not  agreeing  on  all 
points. 

Let  us  notice,  in  passing,  that  the  paternal  grand- 
father of  all  these  Arnaulds — not  the  one  who  ob- 
tained the  abbacies — was  at  one  time  a  Huguenot. 
"  He  was  led  away  into  the  error  of  Calvinism,"  say 
the  annals,  "  but  after  a  time  God  opened  his  eyes, 
though  this  can  not  be  said  with  regard  to  several 
members  of  his  family." 

And  now  we  must  come  back  to  our  young  An- 
gelique.     Very  pretty  are  the  legends  of  the  child- 


Port  Royal  and  the  Mere  Angeliqtie.   139 

abbess,  marching  with  white  robe  and  uphfted  crozier 
at  the  head  of  her  nuns,  receiving  in  the  convent  gar- 
den the  homage  of  the  king,  Henry  Fourth,  rebuking 
the  famiharity  of  the  courtiers,  and  altogether  making 
an  edifying  exhibition  of  infant  piety. 

More  touching,  because  more  true,  is  the  tale  of 
her  girlhood,  when  she  awoke  to  the  reality  of  her 
position — the  bitter  irksomeness  of  her  duties — the 
longing  for  freedom — the  conscientious  chafing  under 
false  vows.  At  one  time,  in  despair,  she  nightly 
studied  over  her  chances  of  escaping  to  her  Huguenot 
aunts  at  Rochelle,  and  talking  over  the  whole  subject 
with  them.  "  Oh,  if  she  had  only  done  that,"  we  are 
inclined  to  exclaim,  "  what  a  new  light  might  have 
been  shed  upon  her  path  !  "  Yet,  if  she  Jiad  6.o\\q.  that, 
what  a  beautiful  chapter  of  faith  and  love  and  cour- 
age and  purity  in  the  midst  of  corruption  would  have 
been  lost  to  history !  The  Lord  who  was  leading 
her  led  her  aright ! 

After  giving  up  this  plan  of  escape,  there  came  a 
strong-willed  effort  to  make  her  life  endurable  by  the 
study  of  Greek  and  Roman  history,  "  Plutarch's 
Lives,"  and  other  not  too  secular  subjects ;  then  a 
long  illness,  brought  on  by  mental  conflict,  and  at 
last,  one  summer  evening,  after  listening  to  the 
preaching  of  an  itinerant  Capuchin  friar  (who  soon 
after  became  a  Huguenot),  she  suddenly  found,  in 
complete  surrender  to  her  Lord  and  to  His  work,  a 


140  Sister  and  Saint. 

fuller  and  a  sweeter  liberty  than  she  had  ever  sighed 
for.  Henceforth  she  becomes  the  M^re  Angelique 
indeed,  and  at  seventeen  begins  her  career  as  reform-, 
er ;  first  of  her  own  convent,  and  afterward,  by  order 
of  her  ecclesiastical  superiors,  of  many  others  through- 
out France. 

Angelique's  life,  as  gi\ren  in  the  "  Memoirs  of  Port 
Royal,"  is  a  series  of  delightful  anecdotes.  It  is  al- 
most impossible  to  classify  them,  fot  is  she  not  a 
woman? — a  bundle  of  contrarieties? — but  each  one 
reveals  some  brave  or  tender  trait.  How  high-spir- 
ited she  is,  —  how  independent,  —  how  unyielding 
when  her  will  is  fully  set  to  do  that  which  she 
thinks  right !  In  the  early  days  of  her  reforms  there 
was  abundant  need  for  this  strength  of  will. 

Her  hardest  task  was  probably  her  very  first. 

The  original  rules  of  her  convent  allowed  inter- 
course with  visitors  only  through  the  grating  of  the 
convent  parlor,  and  so  the  father,  mother,  brothers 
and  sisters  who  had  regarded  Port  Royal  almost  as  a 
second  home,  must  be  excluded.  A  whole  long  day 
the  contest  went  on  between  a  father  indignant  and 
argumentative  by  turns,  a  grieved  and  weeping 
mother,  d'Andilly  angry  and  sarcastic,  and  Anne 
and  Marie  Claire  astonished  and  speechless — all  these 
on  the  one  side,  and  this  pale,  slender  girl  of  eighteen 
on  the  other.  She  carried  her  point,  but  she  fell 
fainting  the  moment  it  ivas  gained. 


Po7't  Royal  a7id  tin   Mere  A7igelique.   141 


Through  life  the  same  strength  and  decision  were 
hers,  and  in  her  seventieth  year  she  speaks  with 
compunction  of  her  "  brusque,  imperious  nature  and 
habit  of  command."  One  day  a  visiting  nun  from 
Poissy  told  how  in  her  convent  they  had  cut  off  part 
of  the  chants  as  a  mortification.  "  Much  better  have 
cut  off  the  tails  of  your  gowns,"  was  the  quick  retort 
from  the  aged  abbess,  who  had  always  hated  nonsense. 
And  in  her  very  last  days  a  box  on  the  ear  was  not 
too  severe  a  punishment  for  a  foolish  nun  who  tried 
to  make  out  that  the  reverend  mother  had  miracu- 
lously caused  some  heavy  bread  to  become  light. 

Yet  how  tender  she  was ! — how  thoughtful  in  her 
tenderness !  There  was  a  certain  Sister  Marguerite, 
who  caused  the  abbess  much  trouble,  and  in  the  end 
proved  incorrigible.  After  a  violent  outbreak  of 
temper,  Angelique  would  not  allow  her  to  partake  of 
the  Holy  Communion,  and,  in  anger  at  this.  Sister 
Marguerite  ran  away.  The  abbess  and  her  nuns 
fasted  many  days,  and  prayed  that  the  Lord  would 
have  mercy  on  the  wanderer  and  restore  her  to  them, 
and  at  length  she  was  sent  to  them  from  a  convent 
in  Paris.  It  was  evening  when  she  arrived,  and  when 
Angelique  heard  the  carriage  wheels,  she  had  all  the 
lights  put  out,  so  that  no  one  might  see  the  penitent 
in  her  humiliation.  She  stood  alone  at  the  open  door, 
took  "Sister  Marguerite  in  her  arms  and  kissed  her, 
and  "  Oh,  my  dear  child  ! "  were  all  the  words  she  said. . 


142  Sister  and  Saint. 

Though  strict  in  requiring  renunciation  where  she 
thought  it  a  duty,  the  Mere  Angelique  would  not 
allow  unnecessary  discomfort.  On  chilly  mornings, 
after  matins  (at  four  o'clock),  she  would  with  her  own 
hands  make  a  fire  and  insist  on  every  one  going  to 
warm  herself.  She  often  visited  the  kitchen  and 
tasted  the  food,  to  be  sure  that  it  was  palatable.  The 
cook,  at  one  time,  was  a  lay-sister  of  another  order  of 
nuns,  and  ate  no  meat.  The  consequence  was  that 
her  own  dinner,  unless  she  prepared  one  especially 
for  herself,  was  apt  to  be  poor,  and  the  abbess,  sus- 
pecting this,  followed  her  one  day  to  the  refectory 
and  saw  what  she  was  about  to  eat — the  scraps  left 
from  the  last  convent  fast-day.  Angelique  brought 
some  eggs,  beat  them  up  and  made  an  omelette,  say- 
ing to  her  lay-sister,  as  she  set  it  before  her,  that 
whenever  she  neglected  to  provide  a  dinner  for  her- 
self, the  thing  would  be  repeated.  The  cook  was 
filled  with  confusion  at  being  waited  on  by  her  Lady 
Superior,  but  she  could  not  help  laughing  as  she  de- 
clared it  was  the  best  omelette  she  had  ever  eaten. 

Great  was  this  woman's  faith !  At  one  time  she 
wanted  three  hundred  francs  to  send  to  the  farm  at 
Fort  Royal  dcs  Champs,  six  hundred  for  another  con- 
vent, a  hundred  and  fifty  to  pay  a  debt,  and  two 
hundred  for  the  butcher.  "  I  had  not  a  single  sou," 
she  writes,  "  so  I  went  to  my  room  and  prayed  to  God 
for  the  money,  and  when   my  prayer  was  ended,  a 


Port  Royal  and  the  Mh'e  Angelique.   143 

widow  lady  came  to  me,  and  said  she  had  changed 
her  mind  as  to  the  disposal  of  two  thousand  three 
hundred  francs  sh^  had  laid  by,  and  instead  of  keep- 
ing them  herself,  she  wished  to  give  them  to  me  for 
our  immediate  use.  And  after  this,  people  tell  me  to 
ask  alms  of  man  and  not  of  God  I  Indeed  I  shall 
ask  God  !  I  shall  always  beg  from  Gj)d  and  not  from 
man  ! 

During  the  civil  wars  in  1652,  manufactures  were 
suspended,  and  the  common  serge  worn  by  the  nuns 
of  Port  Royal  became  very  difficult  to  procure,  h 
few  pieces  of  greatly  inferior  quality  had  remained 
unsold  from  previous  years,  and  these  were  now 
offered  for  sale  at  war  prices — nearly  double  the 
former  price  of  the  good  article. 

M.  Guais,  who  acted  as  the  Mere  Angelique's  agent 
in  such  matters,  had  been  asked  to  try  to  find  some 
serge,  but  he  was  unwilling  to  buy  so  poor  an  article 
at  so  high  a  price,  especially  as  the  convent  was  just 
now  low  in  funds.  He  was,  therefore,  delighted  one 
day  at  finding  some  Ras  dc  N'ord,  a  very  beautiful  and 
durable  material,  which,  by  some  chance,  he  could  get 
at  a  very  low  price.  He  bought  a  piece  at  once  and 
sent  it  to  Port  Royal,  confidently  expecting  an  order 
for  more.  But  Angelique  wrote  back,  "  I  would  much 
rather  buy  the  common  stuffs,  at  double  the  price, 
than  suffer  these  fine  ones  to  enter  the  community. 
I  consider  the  money  I  shall  pay  not  in  the  light  of 


144  Sister  and  Saint. 

a  dear  price  paid  for  an  article  of  dress,  but  as  a 
cheap  price  to  keep  vanity  and  finery  out  of  a  re- 
ligious house."  "  Things  are  not  'always  to  be  esti- 
mated at  the  money  they  cost.  That  must  ever  be 
a  dear  purchase  which  is  at  the  price  of  Christian  sim- 
plicity." Since,  however,  the  unlucky  M.  Guais  had 
bought  one  piece,  she  decided  to  keep  it,  but  it  was 
all  cut  up  into  stockings,  where  its  beauty  could  do  no 
harm  ! 

Dear  saint !  Notwithstanding  her  precautions  the 
annals  of  the  convent  show  now  and  then  a  loophole 
for  feminine  vanity.  Even  the  reverend  Mother  her- 
self is  said  to  have  had  one  weakness — a  large  yellow 
patch  on  her  white  gown,  which  she  contemplated 
with  immens.e  satisfaction.  "  Patches,"  she  used  to 
say,  "  are  a  nun's  jewels." 

This  genuine  love  of  '■'■  sacred  poverty "  is  one  of 
Angelique's  strongest  characteristics.  Money,  to  her 
mind,  was  simply  and  absolutely  a  means  to  an  end. 
Millions  of  francs  passed  through  her  hands,  for  at 
one  time  Port  Royal  was  very  much  the  fashion,  and 
court  and  nobility  lavished  gifts  upon  it.  But  the 
wish  to  possess  any  of  this  money — the  desire  to  own 
even  a  book  or  a  relic,  seems  to  have  been  unknown 
to  her.  Everything  was  absolutely  in  common,  and 
even  St.  Francis'  letters,  her  greatest  treasures,  she 
regarded  as  the  property  of  the  convent.  Avarice 
she  speaks  of  as  a  ''  curious  "  passion.  She  can  not 
understand  it. 


Port  Royal  and  the  Mere  Afigelique.  145 

"  It  is  scarcely  credible,"  say  the  "  Memoirs,"  "  how 
many  families,  both  of  the  poor  and  of  the  reduced 
gentry,  were  relieved  during  the  civil  wars  by  the 
bounty  of  Port  Royal." 

The  embroidery  and  fancy-work  common  among 
nuns  were  an  abomination  to  Angelique,  but  the 
sisters  were  taught,  with  infinite  patience,  economy 
and  neatness,  to  repair  their  own  garments,  and  to 
make  up  into  clothing  for  the  «poor  every  available 
remnant  and  scrap.  Nothing  was  too  sacred  for  use 
in  charity.  The  gold  and  silver  candlesticks  of  the 
church  service  were  more  than  once  sold  for  the 
benefit  of  the  poor,  and  the  very  napkins  off  the  altar 
torn  into  bandages  for  the  wounded. 

There  was  a  permanent  infirmary  within,  the  con- 
vent gates  where  women  and  children  were  nursed 
and  medicines  were  dispensed.  With  her  own  hands 
the  reverend  Mother  would  strip  off  their  rags,  wash, 
clothe,  and  tend  them.  She  was  by  nature  skillful  in 
all  v/oman's  work,  and  had  the  cheerfulness,  tact,  and 
presence  of  mind  in  the  sick-room  that  are  the  sure 
signs  of  a  good  nurse.  No  disease,  however  loath- 
some or  infectious,  dismayed  her,  and  she  learned  to 
use  the  lancet  as  well  as  a  surgeon. 

It  was  in  such  service  as  this  that  Angelique  and 
her  nuns  passed  their  days,  and  in  this  way  they  man- 
ifested their  piety.  "  Perfection,"  the  dear  Mother 
often  said,  "consists  not  in  doing  extraordinary 
7 


146  Sister  and  Saint. 

things,  but  in  doing  ordinary  things  extraordinarily 
well."  "  Neglect  nothing,"  again  she  would  say. 
"  The  most  trivial  action  may  be  performed  to  God. 
Even  in  rising  to  matins,  be  careful  to  make  no  noise, 
lest  you  disturb  invalids ;  if  Christian  charity  be  in 
your  heart  your  whole  life  may  be  a  continual  exer- 
cise of  it."  "  Oh,  if  we  did  but  love  others  how  easily 
the  least  thing,  the  shutting  a  door  gently,  the  walk- 
ing softly,  speaking  low,  not  making  a  noise,  or  the 
choice  of  a  seat  so  as  to  leave  the  most  convenient  to 
others,  might  become  occasions  of  its  exercise." 
Truly,  we  are  inclined  to  say  with  Jacqueline 
Pascal,  "  at  Port  Royal  one  might  reasonably  be  a 
nun." 

One  secret  of  the  Mere  Angelique's  success  was  her 
quick  insight  into  character.  One  day  four  candi- 
dates were  ushered  into  the  convent  parlor.  The 
abbess,  as  they  entered,  watched  them  closely,  and 
whispered  to  the  nun  who  sat  by  her,  **  That  little 
one  at  the  back  .is  the  only  one  that  will  stay."  And 
she  did  stay,  while  the  others,  after  due  probation, 
were  sent  home. 

Another  secret  of  her  success  was  her  fine  tact.  A 
querulous  and  troublesome  nun  was  once  confined  by 
illness  to  the  infirmary  where  the  abbess  herself,  on 
account  of  some  indisposition,  was  also  spending  a 
few  days.  They  were  once  left  quite  alone  and  unat- 
tended for  some  time,  and  the  nun  took  occasion  to 


Port  Royal  and  the  Mere  A7igelique.  147 

remark  that  it  was  very  provoking  of  the  sisters  to 
leave  their  reverend  mother  so  long.  "  Oh,  no,"  said 
the  abbess,  cheerfully.  "  It  is  good  for  me  to  be  left. 
You  know  sick  persons  so  easily  slide  into  self-indul- 
gence. Think  how  many  single  ladies,  of  rank  and 
expectations  far  above  mine,  are,  perhaps,  through 
misfortune,  at  this  moment  destitute  of  any  attend- 
ance. Many  are  thankful  and  happy  in  having  only 
one  little  maid  to  do  everything  for  them,  and  while 
she  is  out  on  business  they  must  be  left  alone.  So, 
my  dear  daughter,  when  we  call  and  nobody  answers, 
let  us  fancy  that  the  little  maid  is  gone  to  market, 
and  wait  patiently  till  she  returns."  The  pleasant 
words  were  not  forgotten,  and  when  the  sister  after- 
ward felt  inclined  to  complain,  she  would  say,  laugh- 
ingly, ''  My  mother,  the  little  maid  is  gone  to  market." 
It  is  impossible  in  a  chapter  to  do  anything  like 
justice  to  Angelique  Arnauld.  The  records  of  her  in 
the  various  Memoirs  of  Port  Royal  are  an  "  embar- 
ras  du  richesse,"  and  we  can  but  gather  up  a  few  frag- 
ments.    We  can  give  but  a  line  to  her  well-trained 

intellect — to  the  wisdom  of  her  counsels  to  the  Tan- 

«  -' 

senist  leaders — her  clear-sightedness  in  regard  to  the 
movements  of  their  Jesuit  persecutors — the  force  of 
her  few  published  writings — the  charm  of  her  familiar 
letters.  Altogether,  her  character  is  like  some  many- 
sided  crystal  —  sparkling,  whichever  way  we  turn  it. 
She  is  one  of  the  Lord's  own  jewels.  And  through 
each  clear-cut  facet  shines  the  same  pure  Light. 


AT   THE   CONVENT    GATES. 


XI. 


AT  THE  CONVENT  GATES. 


T  is  easy  to  see  how  with  such  a  woman  at  its  head, 
or  rather,  at  its  heart,  Port  Royal  became  the  nu- 
cleus of  the  reforming  party  in  the  Church.  An- 
gelique  Arnauld  was,  indeed,  in  its  early  days,  the 
leading  spirit  of  that  noble  band — that  "  fountain 
of  sweet  waters  in  the  midst  of  the  brackish  sea," 
Gladly  enough,  however,  she  gave  place  to  her  re- 
vered spiritual  father,  St.  Cyran,  and  when  he  was 
gone  and  she  was  beginning  to  feel  the  burden  of 
years,  her  young  brother  and  Pascal,  her  nephews, 
and  hosts  of  friends  were  ready  to  step  into  the  front 
ranks. 

While  Jacqueline  Pascal  was  still  a  little  girl,  the 
nuns  had  moved  from  the  valley  of  Chevreuse  to 
Paris.  Port  Royal  had  become  so  popular  that  the 
house  was  too  small  for  the  many  applicants  for  pro- 
bation. '*  Besides,"  say  the  chronicles,  "  the  situation 
became  exceedinglj-  damp  and  unhealthy.    The  whole 

(151) 


152  Sister  and  Saint, 

monastery  was  continually  enveloped  in  a  thick  fog. 
The  house  at  length  became  a  complete  infirmary. 
Deaths  constantly  succeeded  each  other ;  yet  num- 
bers of  fresh  postulants  were  perpetually  offering." 

Madame  Arnauld  was  now  a  widow,  and  her  six 
daughters  urq:ed  her  to  come  and  be  a  nun  with  them. 
She  was  a  woman  of  lovely  Christian  spirit,  but  up  to 
this  time  had  naturally  not  felt  herself  called  to  the 
life  of  the  cloister,  having  been  married  at  fourteen 
and  occupied  with  the  care  of  her  twenty  children. 
She  laughed  when  the  proposition  was  first  made  to 
her,  and  said :  "  How  can  I  begin  to  learn  obedience 
at  fifty,  when  I  have  been  exercising  authority^  since 
I  was  fifteen?"  But  she  finally  decided  on  the  step  ; 
first,  however,  buying  "  a  noble  house  with  magnifi- 
cent gardens  "  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Jacques,  employ- 
ing one  of  the  first  architects  of  the  day  to  build  a 
church  attached  to  it,  and  bearing  the  expenses  of 
the  removal  from  Port  Royal  des  Champs  to  Paris. 

It  was  a  few  years  after  this  that  some  of  St.  Cy- 
ran's  disciples,  prominent  among  them  Ang61ique's 
nephews,  the  Le  Maitres,  withdrew  from  the  world 
into  profound  retirement,  gave  up  their  lives  to  wor- 
ship and  charity,  and  became  known  as  Recluses. 
The  little  house  which  they  took  in  Paris  soon  proving 
too  small  for  their  increasing  numbers,  "  they  deter- 
mined to  go  to  Port  Royal  dcs  CJiamps  and  take  pos- 
session   of    the   convent   the   nuns   had   abandoned. 


At  the  Convent  Gates.  153 

There  they  found  everything  bearing  marks  of  the 
most  complete  desolation.  The  lakes,  for  want  of 
draining,  were  converted  into  noxious  marshes,  over- 
grown with  reeds  and  other  aquatic  plants  ;  they  con- 
tinually exhaled  the  most  pestilential  vapors.  The 
grounds  were  in  many  parts  completely  overflowed. 
The  gardens  were  not  only  overgrown  with  weeds  and 
brushwood,  but  the  very  walks  were  infected  with 
venomous  serpents." 

"  The  hermits,  however,  were  not  to  be  deterred  by 
trivial  inconveniences.  Many  of  them  were  young 
men  of  the  first  families  in  France,  yet  they  did  not 
disdain  to  labor  with  their  own  hands.  The  little  com- 
pany set  joyfully  to  work,  and  the  aspect  of  the  valley 
was  soon  transformed.  The  surface  of  the  swampy 
morass  soon  exhibited  a  clear  lake,  whose  waters  re- 
flected the  hills  around,  crowned  with  thick  forests  of 
oak.  The  tangled  brushwood  was  felled.  The  spa- 
cious gardens  blossomed  as  the  rose,  and  the  (rebuilt) 
walls  of  Port  Royal  arose  from  the  ground  amidst 
hymns  of  prayer  and  shouts  of  praise. 

"  New  associates  were  continually  quitting  the  world 
and  joining  themselves  to  this  little  band.  After  a 
short  period  it  became  a  numerous  and  flourishing 
society.  Regular  plans  and  an  orderly  distribution  of 
employments  were  soon  found  necessary." 

"  The    Recluses   of    Port    Royal,    unlike   religious 

orders,  were  not  bound  by  any  vows.     Each,  never- 
1*  .  " 


154  Sister  and  Saint. 


theless,  sought  to  imitate  his  Lord,  and  follow  His 
steps,  by  a  life  of  voluntary  poverty,  penance,  and 
self-denial.  They  assumed  the  dress  of  no  particular 
order;  yet  they  were  easily  distinguished  by  their 
coarse  and  plain,  but  clean  clothing.  Their  time  was 
divided  betv/een  their  devotions  to  God  and  their 
services  to  men.  They  all  met  together  several  times, 
both  in  the  day  and  night,  in  the  church.  Twice 
each  day,  also,  the  whole  company  met  in  the  refec- 
tory. Some  hours  were  occupied  by  each  in  his  own 
cell,  in  meditation,  in  private  prayer,  and  in  dili- 
gently reading  and  comparing  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
which  they  always  did  in  the  attitude,  as  well  as  in 
the  spirit  of  prayer,  and  to  which  exercise  they  de- 
voted a  portion  of  time  every  day.  Their  directors 
always  advised  them  to  begin  by  studying  the  Holy 
Scripture  itself,  without  any  commentary,  seeking 
only  for  edification." 

But  as  years  went  on  over  these  recluses  and  over 
Angelique's  sisterhood  in  the  city,  that  "  noble 
house  "  in  turn  became  too  strait  for  its  occupants. 
It  became  necessary  to  divide  them,  and  send  part  of 
the  number  back  to  the  valley  of  Chevreuse.  How 
they  came  back  we  will  learn  by  again  quoting  from 
the  "  Select  Memoirs." 

"  The  news  of  the  nuns'  intended  return  M'as  soon 
spread  at  Port  Royal.  The  whole  neighborhood 
evinced  the  greatest  joy.  It  was  delightful  again  to 
see  them  after  so  many  years  of  absence. 


At  the  Convent  Gates.  155 

"  The  recluses  made  every  exertion  to  prepare  the 
house  and  gardens.  They  put  them  in  the  best  order 
for  their  friends.  Their  own  books  and  furniture 
were  soon  packed  up.  On  the  morning  of  the  very 
day  the  nuns  v/ere  expected,  they  removed  from  the 
monastery.  They  took  possession  of  a  farm-house 
(Les  Granges)  which  was  situated  at  the  top  of  the 
hill."  "  The  Mere  AngeHque  came  in  person  to 
estabhsh  the  nuns  in  their  former  habitation.  On  the 
day  she  was  expected  all  the  poor  flocked  to  the 
monastery  in  their  best  clothes.  As  soon  as  the  long 
file  of  carriages  appeared  through  the  woods  at  the 
top  of  the  hill,  they  went  to  meet  her.  The  bells 
were  immediately  rung ;  shouts  of  joy  and  exclama- 
tions of  pleasure  resounded  on  all  sides.  The  pro- 
cession stopped ;  then  the  poor  with  tears  implored 
their  good  mother's  benediction.  She  tendefly  em- 
braced them.  At  the  church  door  she  was  met  by 
all  the  recluses.  They  led  the  nuns  into  the  choir, 
and  after  service,  left  them  in  possession  of  the  con- 
vent and  retired  to  their  new  habitation." 

"The  nuns  and  recluses  never  saw  each  other  but 
at  church  ;  even  there  a  grate  separated  them ;  nor 
had  they  any  intercourse,  though  so  nearly  related, 

except  by  letter The   recluses  continued  all 

their  former  occupations ;  they  conducted  the  farms 
and  gardens  and  performed  every  other  laborious 
office." 


156  Sister  and  Saint. 

Under  the  wise  care  of  these  kind  friends  and 
brothers,  and  by  means  of  the  princely  gifts  which 
about  this  time  flowed  into  the  convent  treasury, 
Port  Royal  des  Champs  became  a  very  different  place 
from  the  malarious  valley  we  have  seen  it.  The 
farms  were  much  improved  and  became  very  pro- 
ductive. "The  stagnant  waters  were  drained  and 
formed  into  clear  lakes  abounding  with  fish.  The 
fields,  gardens,  and  orchards  were  assiduously  cul- 
tivated and  enlarged."  The  fruit  of  Port  Royal,  in- 
deed, was  celebrated  for  its  extraordinary  size  and 
fine  flavor,  so  much  so,  that  when  M.  d'Andilly  an- 
nually sent  presents  to  the  Queen  Mother,  Anne  of 
Austria,  Cardinal  Mazarin  used  to  call  it  "  fruit 
benit." 

Such  were  the  two  houses  of  Port  Royal  when  Jac- 
quelitie  Pascal  first  became  interested  in  the  convent. 

The  Mere  Angelique  was  not  perpetual  abbess  of 
.  either  house.  One  of  her  early  acts  of  humility  had 
been  the  securing  of  triennial  elections  for  this  office. 
But  she  was  very  frequently  elected  to  it,  as  was  also 
her  sister  Agnes.  While  they  were  still  young  girls, 
by  the  request  of  both  sisters,  Agnes  had  been  al- 
lowed to  give  up  the  abbacy  of  her  convent  of  St. 
Cyr  and  become  a  simple  nun  of  Port  Royal  under 
Angelique.  She  had  not  lost  her  childish  dread  of 
the  dignity,  yet,  after  all,  as  we  have  said,  she  could 
altogether  escape  it. 


At  the  Convent  Gates.  157 

The  M^re  Agnes  is  a  very  interesting  character, 
though  differing  greatly  from  her  sister.  She  was 
something  of  a  mystic  by  nature,  and  would  gladly 
have  spent  her  life  in  perpetual  adoration.  Her  fav- 
orite book  in  her  youth  was  the  Life  of  St.  Theresa. 
She  pored  devotedly  over  its  pages  while  Angelique 
was  reading  Plutarch's  Lives. 

One  day  while  she  was  a  novice  she  was  carrying  a 
can  of  oil  to  clean  the  choir  lamps,  and  spilled  it  over 
her  dress  and  on  the  steps  of  the  church.  Any  other 
novice  would  have  been  greatly  troubled  at  such  an 
accident,  but  to  the  lips  of  Agnes  rose  the  words, 
"  Thy  name  is  as  oil  poured  forth."  She  meditated 
a  few  moments  on  her  loving  thought,  but  then  hum- 
bly wiped  up  the  oil  and  went  to  her  sister,  the 
young  abbess,  to  confess  her  fault. 

Angelique,  though  she  had  a  great  admiration  for 
her  younger  sister,  thought  she  was  in  danger  of 
being  led  away  by  prayer  and  fasting  from  the  prac- 
tical work  of  life.  One  day  as  a  "  mortification  "  she 
sent  for  Agnes  to  come  otft  of  church,  and  she  came 
"weeping  bitterly."  Many  years  afterward,  when 
Agnes  was  abbess,  Angelique  said  to  her  one  day, 
**  Ah,  mother  abbess,  do  you  remember  the  day  when 
I  fetched  you  weeping  from  the  choir,  because  you 
cared  for  nothing  but  prayer?  It  is  forty  years  ago, 
but  I  am  sure  that  if  I  were  to  keep  you  away  from 
church  now,  you  would  weep  as  bitterly  as  you  did 
then.     Truly  there  is  no  cure  for  our  old  diseases." 


158  Sister  and  Saint. 

Nothing  is  told  us  of  the  Mere  Ang^lique's  per- 
sonal appearance,  but  Agnes'  sweet  face  is  often 
spoken  of.  Among  the  few  ornaments  allowed  at 
Port  Royal  was  a  large  painting  on  the  refectory 
wall,  by  Philip  de  Champagne,  representing  the  Mere 
Agnes  on  her  knees  by  the  bedside  of  a  sick  nun, 
praying  for  her  recovery.  The  prayer  was  granted, 
and  the  event  gratefully  commemorated  in  this  way.* 

Agnes  Arnauld  was  the  author  of  several  little  devo- 
tional books.  One  of  these,  "  Le  Chapelet  Secret,"  had 
the  honor  of  being  condemned  by  the  doctors  of  the 
Sorbonne  and  suppressed  by  the  Pope.  Another, 
the  "  Portrait  of  a  Perfect  and  an  Imperfect  Nun,"  has 
been  said  to  *'  display  so  much  spiritual  acumen,  that 
if  entitled,  '  The  Portrait  of  a  Consistent  and  a  Half- 
hearted Christian,'  it  would  not  be  unworthy  of  a 
place  beside  the  soul-searching  treatises  of  her  Puritan 
contemporaries." 

It  was  the  Mere  Agnes  who,  for  the  most  part, 
kept  up  the  correspondence  with  Jacqueline  Pascal 
during  the  latter's  years  of  waiting  outside  the  con- 
vent gates.  Regularly  every  month  a  letter  came, 
always  full  of  affection,  and  usually  of  sound  advice. 

"Yesterday,"  runs  one  of  them,  "we  had  an  ad- 
mirable sermon  from  M.  Singlin ;  I  could  have 
wished  you  had  been  there,  but  for  the  fear  that  it 


*  Mrs.  Jameson  gives  a  sketch  of  this  picture  in  her  "  Legends  of 
the  Monastic  Orders." 


At  the  Convent  Gates.  159 

might  have  excited  your  desire  of  taking  the  veil, 
and  made  your  present  state  of  suspense  more 
painful." 

Again,  "  If  you  do  not  possess  your  soul  in  peace 
and  perfect  submission,  you  must  cease  the  repetition 
of  the  Lord's  Prayer,  for  the  phrase,  '  Thy  will  be 
done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven,'  includes  the  renun- 
ciation of  every  possible  wish  which  does  not  har- 
monize with  God's  will.  I  do' not  believe,  dear  sister, 
that  you  can  desire  to  have  things  arranged  in  any 
other  way  than  as  God  chooses ;  for  a  conventual  life« 
will  not  make  you  what  He  designs  to  have  you  be- 
come, unless  you  enter  upon  it  in  accordance  with 
Plis  will,  and  at  the  hour  of  His  appointment." 

And  yet  once  more,  "  You  are  bound  to  accept  the 
answer  given  you  by  your  father  as  a  decree  of  God, 
who  sees  fit  to  reserve  some  other  season  for  th? 
gracious  fulfillment  of  those  desires  He  has  inspired 
within  you." 

Some  of  Angelique's  wise  instructions,  taken  down 
from  her  lips  (by  stealth,  for  the  abbess  would  never 
allow  it  to  be  done  with  her  knowledge),  were  copied 
and  sent  to  Jacqueline.  We  must  quote  one  passage, 
even  at  the  risk  of  becoming  v/earisome  : 

"  It  may  be  said  with  equal  advantage,  both  to  the 
novice  who  has  her  profession  to  make  and  to  the 
nun  who  has  already  made  it  on  the  best  grounds, 
examine  your  oivn  hearts.     There  is  an  indolent  re- 


i6o  Sister  and  Saint. 


tirement  from  the  world  which  arises  from  sloth  ; 
there  is  a  selfish  retirement,  which  originates  in  a 
misanthropic  absorption  in  our  own  concerns ;  there 
is  a  melancholy  retirement,  which  is  grounded  on  dis- 
appointed self-love  ;  and  there  is  a  philosophic  re- 
tirement which  has  its  basis  in  pride  and  contempt 
of  others.  Far  different  from  all  these  is  a  genuine 
religious  retirement.  The  Christian's  seclusion  is 
founded  on  a  deep  experience  of  the  deceitfulness  of 
his  own  heart ;  nor  is  it  deserving  of  that  holy  name 
unless  while  he  comes  out  from  the  world  to  wait  in 
silence  upon  God,  he  also  diligently  labors,  by  his 
industry  and  talents,  as  well  as  in  his  prayers,  to  serve 
to  the  very  uttermost  even  that  secular  society  con- 
science has  obliged  him  to  quit." 

All  these  counsels,  and  especially  Agnes*  exhorta- 
tions to  patience,  were  needed,  for  Jacqueline's  great 
temptation  during  these  years  seems  to  have  been  to 
restlessness  and  chafing  under  her  delay.  Her  enthu- 
siastic temperament  and  her  strong  will  submitted 
with  difficulty  to  the  hard  duty  of  waiting.  Probably 
the  first  great  lesson  of  obedience,  so  strongly  insisted 
on  by  Angelique  in  her  government,  was  better  learn- 
ed by  Jacqueline  Pascal  in  that  solitary  room  in  her 
father's  house  than  it  could  have  been  amid  the  con- 
genial activities  of  Port  Royal  life. 

Poor  child !  The  picture  of  her  in  these  days 
looks  dull  and  colorless  enough  b.eside  the  pleasant 


At  the  Convent  Gates.  i6i 

scenes  we  have  been  considering.  Madame  Perier 
speaks  of  her  "  strict  soHtude,  which  she  never  quit- 
ted, unless  necessity  obhged  her."  "And  to  all  this," 
she  continues,  "  she  added  great  bodily  austerities. 
As  we  had  but  scanty  lodging-room  (she  was  then  at 
Clermont),  a  partition  had  to  be  put  up  for  her  ac- 
commodation in  a  place  where  there  was  no  chimney, 
at  some  distance  from  the  other  rooms.  There  she 
passed  a  whole  winter,  without  allowing  us  to  do  the 
least  thing  for  her  comfort,  nor  would  she  be  per- 
suaded to  come  near  the  fire  at  meal-times,  which 
made  us  all  very  uneasy.  Her  abstinence  also  troub- 
led us  ;  for  though  she  partook  of  our  ordinary  food, 
yet  it  was  in  such  small  portions,  that,  being  natu- 
rally very  delicate,  she  lessened  her  strength  and  ruin- 
ed her  digestion,  till  when,  at  last,  we  insisted  on  her 
taking  more  nourishment,  she  was  unable.  Her  vigils, 
too,  were  extraordinary ;  not  that  we  knew  their 
exact  length,  except  as  we  perceived  by  the  number 
of  candles  she  burned,  and  by  similar  circumstances. 
Her  admirable  foresight  led  her  to  prepare  for  a  con- 
ventual dress,  which,  differing  as  it  does  from  the 
dress  worn  generally,  troubles  the  body  and  so  clogs 
the  soul ;  and  to  guard  against  this,  she  accustomed 
herself  as  much  as  possible  to  its  inconveniences. 
Her  shoes  were  made  very  low  in  the  heel ;  she  wore 
no  corsets,  cut  off  her  hair,  and  put  on  head-dresses 
that  were  larger  and  more  embarrassing  than  a  veil 
would  have  been." 


1 62  Sister  and  Saint. 


It  is  very  probable  that  if  Jacqueline  had  been,  at 
this  time,  under  the  direct  care  of  the  Mere  Angel- 
ique,  these  practices  would  have  been  less  rigid,  for 
Angclique  did  "  not  approve  of  austerities  and  severe 
penance."  She  thought  they  tended  to  develop 
spiritual  pride.  We  have  already  quoted  her  very 
frequent  saying,  "  Perfection  does  not  consist  in  do- 
ing extraordinary  things,  but  in  doing  ordinary  things 
extraordinarily  well."  And  the  words  of  St.  Francis 
de  Sales  were  often  on  her  lips — that  "  piety  is  not 
self-mortification,  but  doing  the  will  of  God  ; "  and 
that  "  fasting,  in  accordance  with  one's  own  will,  is 
often  a  temptation  of  the  devil." 

But  Jacqueline  Pascal  wasyoung  and  ardent.  "  She 
loved  much."  And  doubtless,  when  she  fell  at  the 
Master's  feet  and  broke  there  her  "  alabaster  box  of 
very  precious  ointment,"  though  she  may  have  done 
it  mistakenly  and  blindly,  the  service  was  accepted 
and  blessed  of  Him.  That  it  was  indeed  so,  seems 
evident  from  the  effect  of  this  life  upon  her  own 
heart.  There  is  no  trace  of  spiritual  pride,  nor  does 
her  breaking  of  home  ties*  and  neglect  of  home  duties 
produce  so  narrow  and  selfish  a  habit  of  mind  as  we 
might  fear.  She  was  not  idle  or  forgetful  of  others 
in  her  solitude.  "  After  regularly  reciting  her  offices," 
says  her  sister,  "  and  after  reading,  which  employed 
her  closely,  as  she  made  extracts  from  the  books  she 
read,  she  spent  the  rest  of  her  time  in  working  for 


At  the  Co7ivent  Gates^  163 

the  poor.  She  made  them  thick  woolen  stockings, 
under-Hnen,  and  other  small  comforts,  which,  when 
finished,  she  carried  herself  to  the  hospital.  It  was 
occasion  of  wonder  and  edification  that  this  entire 
separation  from  the  world  did  not  make  her  sour  in 
manners  and  temper,  but  on  the  contrary,  she  was  aU 
ways  charmingly  affable,  and  ever  ready  to  go  out  of 
doors  on  any  charitable  errand,  as  we  many  times  on 
trial  found. 

"  During  this  time  I  was  often  indisposed,  and  she 
would  sit  with  me  all  day,  without  seeming  in  the 
least  disconcerted.  Several  of  my  children  had  vio- 
lent illnesses,  and  she  nursed  them  with  admirable 
kindness.  Even  when  one  of  my  little  girls  died  of 
confluent  small-pox,  my  sister  attended  her  to  the 
last,  and  though  the  illness  continued  a  fortnight, 
she  only  went  into  her  own  room  to  repeat  her 
offices,  choosing  for  that  purpose  the  child's  intervals 
of  ease,  watching  over  her  night  and  day  with  the 
tenderest  care,  and  passing  many  nights  without  once 
lying  down.  When  there  was  no  more  need  of  her 
charitable  services  in  this  case,  she  returned  to  her 

usual  course  in  her  chamber Jacqueline  took 

great  pleasure  in  visits  to  poor  sick  people  about  the 
town,  accompanying  an  excellent  young  lady  who 
devoted  herself  entirely  to  the  poor." 

By  their  fruits  ye  shall  know  them !  When  vigils, 
fastings,  and  coarse,  uncomfortable  garments  produce 


164  Sister  and  Saint. 

"  charming  affability,"  kindness,  and  tenderness,  we 
need  not  be  afraid  of  them.  It  is  easy  to  cry  out 
against  the  austerities  and  the  restrictions  practiced 
by  many  Roman  Catholic  Christians.  It  is  easy  for 
us  to  see  the  harm  they  do.  But  let  us  make  sure 
that  in  throwing  away  these  things  we  are  putting 
something  better  in  their  place.  Let  us  not  omit 
these  and  also  leave  the  other  undone. 

It  is  a  pity  to  force  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  by  these 
unnatural,  painful  processes.  But  it  is  a  greater  pity 
still  not  to  cultivate  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit  at  all, 
and  in  our  liberty  to  forget  the  very  object  of  that 
liberty. 

"  The  religion  of  gloom  suppresses  human  nature," 
says  Cousin  with  much  force  and  justice.  "  But  the 
religion  of  mere  pleasure  does  worse.  It  degrades 
it." 


WAITING, 


^^M 


>/^^-oj 


XII. 


WAITING. 

.HESE  years  were  stormy  ones  for  the  nation, 
and  perhaps  the  vacillations  of  the  Pascals 
between  Clermont  and  Paris  may  have  been 
owing  to  the  unquiet  state  of  things  in  the  capital. 

The  new  cardinal  (Mazarin)  was  even  less  popular 
than  Richelieu  had  been.  Those  who  had  admired 
that  royal  maneuverer  saw  in  Mazarin  only  a  feeble 
and  unworthy  imitator  of  him.  The  nobles  hated 
him  because  he  was  a  foreigner,  and  the  people  be- 
cause his  taxes  were  extortionate. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say  that  Anne  of 
Austria,  though  nominally  Regent,  was  a  cipher  in 
the  government.  She  was  completely  under  the  in- 
fluence of  the  cardinal,  and  it  was  thought  that  a 
secret  marriage  existed  between  them. 

Meantime  Louis  Fourteenth  was  receiving  an  edu- 
cation which  has  been  thus  described :  "  The  infant 
king's  amusements  v/ere  all  of  a  military  kind.     He 

(iC7) 


1 68  Sister  and  Saint. 

delighted  in  handling  arms  and  in  beating  drums. 
His  intellectual  education  was  neglected,  but  much 
attention  was  paid  to  his  physical  development,  and 
his  natural  vanity,  egotism,  and  haughtiness  were 
encouraged  rather  than  checked  by  his  mother  and 
his  tutors.  The  avarice  of  Cardinal  Mazarin  induced 
him  to  stint  the  allowance  and  equipage  of  the  young 
monarch,  who  slept  upon  worn  and  ragged  sheets 
and  had  a  most  unbecoming  and  insufficient  ward- 
robe," 

Certainly  this  gives  little  prophecy  of  his  brilliant 
reign — "  the  Augustan  age  of  France."  But  we  are 
to  remember  that  Louis  Fourteenth's  reign  was  bril- 
liant, not  from  the  mind  and  character  of  the  king, 
but  from  those  of  his  gifted  subjects.  The  cruelty,  des- 
potism, and  fearful  grossness  of  morals  during  this 
reign,  are  facts  with  which  everybody  is  familiar. 
"And  yet,"  say  Buckle  in  his  "  History  of  Civiliza- 
tion," "  there  are  still  found  men  who  hold  up  for  ad- 
miration the  age  of  Louis  Fourteenth.  They  are 
willing  to  forgive  every  injury  inflicted  by  a  prince 
during  whose  life  there  were  produced  the  letters  of 
Pascal,  the  orations  of  Bossuet,  the  comedies  of 
Moliere,  and  the  tragedies  of  Racine." 

This  is  wandering  a  little  from  Cardinal  Mazarin, 
but  we  will  come  back  to  say  that,  one  day  in  1648 — 
that  summer  after  M.  Pascal  had  joined  Blaise  and 
Jacqueline  in  the  city — Paris  awaked  to  find  itself  in 


Waiting.  169 

the  hands  of  the  mob.  The  cardinal  had  caused  the 
arrest  of  two  men  who  had  resisted  the  taxes,  and 
this  was  the  result.  The  Swiss  guards,  stationed  at 
the  Tuilleries,  were  dispersed,  barricades  were  erected 
in  all  the  streets  adjoining  the  palace,  and  the  court, 
thus  hemned  in  and  defenseless,  was  obliged  to  repeal 
for  the  moment  the  obnoxious  taxes. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  "  the  wars  of  the  Fronde," 
so  called  from  the  epithet  frondciirs  (slingers)  applied 
to  the  insurgents. 

These  wars  soon  became  a  mere  series  of  intrigues 
between  the  nobility  and  the  cardinal,  and  are  far  too 
intricate  for  us  to  follow.  It  is  worth  our  while, 
however,  to  notice  that  that  beautiful  and  accom- 
plished woman,  the  Duchess  of  Longueville,  at  first 
took  the  lead  of  the  party  opposed  to  the  court  and 
cardinal,  and  thus  placed  herself  in  opposition  to  her 
brother,  the  great  Prince  Conde.  A  few  years  later 
she  became  a  very  different  woman,  and  gladly  left 
the  tumult  of  the  world  for  the  cloisters  of  Port 
Royal. 

During  all  the  remaining  years  with  which  our  little 
history  has  to  do,  these  commotions  or  others  similar 
to  them  were  raging. 

Paris  was  besieged  by  Conde  in  1649,  and  all  the 
surrounding  country  was  involved  in  the  distress  of 
the  city.  The  Mere  Angelique  writes  from  Port 
Royal  dcs  Champs  :  "  We  are  all  occupied  in  contriv- 


170  Sister  and  Saint. 

ing  soups  and  pottage  for  the  poor.  This  is,  indeed, 
an  awful  time.  Our  gentlemen,  as  they  were  taking 
their  rounds  yesterday,  found  two  persons  starved  to 
death,  and  met  with  a  young  woman  on  the  very 
point  of  killing  her  child  because  she  had  no  food  for  it. 

"All  is  pillaged  around ;  corn-fields  are  trampled 
over  by  the  cavalry  in  presence  of  the  starving  own- 
ers ;  despair  has  seized  all  whose  confidence  is  not  in 
God ;  no  one  will  any  longer  plow  or  dig ;  there 
are  no  horses  left,  indeed,  for  plowing,  nor,  if  there 
were,  is  any  person  certain  of  reaping  what  he  sows ; 
everything  is  stolen. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  not  be  able  to  send  you  a  letter 
to-morrow,  for  all  our  horses  and  asses  are  dead  with 
hunger.  Oh,  how  little  do  princes  knov/  of  the  de- 
tailed horrors  of  war !  All  the  provender  of  the 
beasts  we  were  obliged  to  divide  between  the  starving 
poor  and  ourselves.  We  have  concealed,  in  our  con- 
vent, as  many  of  the  peasants  and  their  cattle  as  we 
could,  to  save  them  from  being  murdered  and  losing 
all  their  substance.  Our  dormitory  and  the  chapter- 
house are  full  of  horses.  We  are  almost  stifled  from 
being  pent  up.  with  these  beasts.  But  we  could  not  re- 
sist the  piercing  lamentations  of  the  starving  and 
heart-broken  people.  In  the  cellar  are  concealed 
forty  cows.  Our  court-yards  and  outhouses  are  packed 
full  of  fowls,  turkeys,  ducks,  geese,  and  asses.  The 
church  is  piled  up  to  the  ceiling  with  corn,  oats,  beans, 


Waiting.  171 

and  pease,  and  with  caldrons,  kettles,  and  other  things 
belonging  to  the  cottagers.  Every  time  we  enter  the 
chapel  we  are  obliged  to  scramble  over  sacks  of  flour 
and  all  sorts  of  rubbish.  The  floor  of  the  choir  is  com- 
pletely covered  with  the  libraries  of  our  gentlemen. 

"  Thirty  or  forty  nuns,  from  other  convents,  have 
also  fled  here  for  refuge.  Our  laundry  is  thronged 
by  the  aged,  th^  blind,  the  maimed,  the  halt,  and  in- 
fants. The  infirmary  is  full  of  sick  and  wounded. 
We  have  torn  up  all  our  linen  clothes,  and  used  all 
our  rags,  to  dress  their  sores.  We  have  no  more,  and 
are  now  at  our  wits'  end.  The  cold  is  excessive,  and 
all  our  fire-wood  is  consumed.  We  dare  not  go  into 
the  fields  for  any  more,  for  they  are  full  of  marauding 
parties.  We  hear  that  the  Abbey  of  St.  Cyran  has 
been  burnt  and  pillaged.  Our  own  is  threatened  with 
an  attack  every  day.  The  cold  weather  alone  pre- 
serves us  from  pestilence.  We  are  so  closely  crowded 
that  deaths  take  place  continually.  God,  however,  is 
with  us,  and  we  are  in  peace.  I  did  not  intend  to  tell 
you  all  this,  but  my  heart  is  so  full  that  I  have  written 
on  without  knowing  it." 

While  she  waited  for  the  fulfillment  of  her  vows  and 
of  her  hopes,  Jacqueline  Pascal's  mind  was  not  stag- 
nating, nor  was  her  pen  altogether  idle,  though  she 
appears  to  have  spent  more  time  in  copying  and 
paraphrasing  the  writings  of  others  than  in  original 
composition. 


1^2  Sister  and  Saint. 

Of  course  the  character  of  her  productions  is  very 
different  from  that  of  carHer  days.  Her  thoughts 
were  deeper,  higher,  and  undoubtedly  the  excellent 
models  she  so  faithfully  studied  had  their  natural  ef- 
fect on  her  style,  so  that  we  find  in  her  compositions 
after  this  time  a  certain  elevation  and  dignity  added 
to  the  gracefulness  of  her  youth.  "  Her  prose,"  says 
Cousin,  "  is  always  of  the  best  quality,  healthy,  natural, 
ingenious,  agreeable."  Some  of  her  "  reflections " 
were  considered  so  fine  that  it  was  once  proposed  to 
incorporate  them  with  an  edition  of  her  brother's 
*'  Pensees,"  but  this  plan  was  given  up,  and  they  were 
added  to  the  "  Conferences  of  the  Rev.  Mere  Marie 
Angelique  Arnauld." 

Jacqueline  Pascal  never  attained  the  keen,  clear 
thought  and  transparent  style  of  her  brother,  but  she 
belongs,  as  some  one  has  said,  to  the  nobl6  order  of  the 
'■'■sisters  of  genius,"  capable  of  appreciating  the  high- 
est and  best  in  another,  and  by  her  enthusiasm  and 
her  nobility  of  character,  of  inspiring  that  other  to  his 
greatest  successes.  Such  a  power  is  to  most  women 
a  more  useful  and  a  more  welcome  gift  than  genius 
itself. 

There  are  three  papers  written  by  Jacqueline,  be- 
tween the  years  1648  and  1652,  which  are  worth  our 
attention.  The  first  in  time  is  a  letter  to  her  father, 
written  soon  after  his  refusal  to  her  request,  and  be- 
fore she  had  entered  upon  the  strictly  solitary  life  hei 


IVaiiing.  1 73 

sister  has  described  to  us.  It  is  ver}'  long,  taking  up 
seven  pages  of  Cousin's  volume,  and  we  can  make 
but  a  few  extracts  from  it.  Her  object  in  writing  is 
to  beg  her  father's  permission  to  make  a  "  retreat "  of 
a  fortnight  at  Port  Royal,  and  very  skillfully  she 
makes  her  plea.     She  begins  thus  : 

"  Monsieur  MON  Pere  : — As  ingratitude  is  the 
blackest  of  vices,  all  that  approaches  it  is  so  horrible 
that  it  can  scarcely  be  thought  of  by  one  who  has  any 
love  whatever  for  virtue.  Forgetfulness  of  benefits 
received  from  another,  above  all  when  those  benefits 
have  been  great  and  long  continued,  is  ordinarily  an 
effect  of  ingratitude,  and  want  of  confidence  in  this 
same  person  must  be  the  effect  of  this  forgetfulness. 
Therefore,  I  should  believe  it  to  be  a  crin*^  to  fail  to 
have  great  confidence  in  you  on  this  occasion,  although, 
at  the  same  time,  I  very  much  wish  what  I  ask,  and, 
ordinarily,  those  who  wish  fear  also. 

"  First  of  all,  I  beg  you,  my  father,  not  to  be  sur- 
prised at  this  request  of  mine,  for  it  does  not  militate 
in  the  least  against  your  will  in  regard  to  me  as  you 
have  testified  it.  I  also  beg  you,  by  all  that  is  most 
holy,  to  remeviber  the  prompt  obedience  I  have  ren- 
dered you  in  that  thing  which  touches  me  nearest  of 
anything  in  the  world,,  and  the  accomplishment  of 
which  I  wish  so  ardently.  Doubtless  }'ou  have  not 
forgotten  this  exact  submission.  You  appeared  too  ^ 
well  satisfied  with  it  to  let  it  so  soon  pass  out  of  your 


1 74  Sister  and  Saint. 

mind.  God  is  my  witness  that  I  believe  I  have  done 
my  duty  in  acting  thus,  and  I  only  remind  you  of  it 
that  you  may  understand  that  all  my  principles  lead 
me  to  undertake  nothing  important  without  your 
consent.  After  that,  my  father,  I  have  no  more 
doubt  that  you  will  do  me  the  honor  to  believe  me 
and  to  grant  my  request." 

And  now  she  fears  she  has  gone  too  far  and  injured 
her  cause  by  making  too  much  of  it.  She  changes 
her  tactics : 

"After  all  this  preparation  you  will  think  it  is  some 
great  request.  //  really  is  7iot  that  at  all ;  indeed,  it 
is  so  little  that  I  believe  I  might  have  done  it  without 
offending  you  in  the  least,  if  I  had  said  nothing  about 
it!"  ...  . 

''  Know  then,  my  father,  if  you  please  (and,  indeed, 
I  think  you  already  are  aware  of  the  fact),  that  it  is 
a  frequent  thing  among  persons  of  all  conditions, 
whether  living  in  the  world  or  not,  to  make  at  certain 
times,  as  their  spiritual  director  may  advise,  two  or 
three  weeks  of  retreat  in  some  religious  house,  where 
they  enter  into  perfect  seclusion,  by  permission  of  the 
superior,  and  hold  converse  only  with  God  and  those 
who  are  His.  Those  who  are  most  careful  of  their 
salvation  place  themselves  when  they  can  in  the  best 
regulated  house  they  know  of.  I  think  you  see  my 
design,  and  I  am  sure  you  think  with  me  that  I  can 
not  do  better  than  choose  Port  Royal  de  Paris,  nor 


Waiting.  175 

take  a  better  time  than  that  of  your  absence  when  I 
can  render  you  no  service.  Neither  am  I  needed  by 
any  one  else  in  the  house,  for  since  you  went  away  I 
have  not  written  a  single  word  for  my  brother,  and 
that  is  the  thing  for  which  he  needs  me  most.  But 
he  can  do  very  well  with  some  one  else ;  indeed,  I 
see  no  way  in  which  I  can  possibly  be  needed  until 
your  return  from  Rouen,  certainly  if  you  compare 
such  usefulness  with  the  necessity  which  there  is  for 
my  making  this  retreat." 

And  then,  presently,  she  thinks  of  another  good 
argument  to  urge  :  "  For  since  God  has  shown  me 
the  grace  to  increase  daily  within  me  the  effect  of 
that  vocation  He  has  pleased  to  give  me,  and  you 
have^  permitted  me  to  keep,  and  which  it  is  my  de- 
sire to  accomplish  as  soon  as  He  shall  make  known  to 
me  His  will  by  yours — since,  I  say,  this  desire  aug- 
ments every  day,  and  I  see  no  power  on  earth  that 
can  prevent  my  accomplishing  it  if  you  will  and  per- 
mit it — tJiis  retreat  would  serve  to  prove  whether  it  is 
there  that  God  would  have  me.  I  could  then  listen  to 
Him  alone  {seul  a  seul),  and  perhaps  I  sJiall  find  that 
I  am  not  born  for  that  sort  of  place  ;  and,  if  it  is  thus, 
I  will  ask  you  frankly  not  to  think  of  it  any  longer, 
or  pay  any  more  attention  to  what  I  have  said  to 
you 

"  Behold,  M.  mon  pere,  the  very  humble  prayer  I 
make  you.     I  doubt  not  you  will  grant  it If  I 


176  Sister  and  Samt. 

have  ever  been  so  happy  as  to  satisfy  you  in  anything, 
I  beg  you  grant  me  promptly  what  I  ask.  The  ab- 
besses, on  their  part,  have  accorded  me  the  privilege. 
M.  Perier,  my  brother,  and  via  fidcle  (Gilberte),  ap- 
prove my  plan  and  are  quite  willing,  provided  I  can 
gain  your  consent 

"  If  there  were  any  other  consideration  stronger 
than  the  love  of  God,  which  will  urge  you  for  His 
sake  to  accord  me  this  slight  request,  I  would  employ 
it.  In  the  name  of  that  sacred  love  which  He  gives 
to  us,  and  which  we  owe  to  Him,  grant  this  request, 
either  to  my  iveakness  or  to  my  arguments 

"  You  may  be  certain  that  your  commandments  are 
laws  to  me,  and  that  where  your  satisfaction  is  con- 
cerned, even  at  the  prejudice  of  my  whole  life's  re- 
pose, I  promptly  hasten  to  obey.  It  is  gratitude  and 
affection  rather  than  duty  that  leads  me  to  do  this, 
and  when  I  accord  to  you  what  you  demand  of  me,  it 
is  from  pure  love  to  your  service  next  to  that  of  God. 
This  service  is  the  reason  you  have  given  for  keeping 
me  with  you.  I  hope  in  God  you  will  some  day 
know  how  much  better  I  could  serve  you  by  being 
with  Him  than  by  being  with  you.  But  while  wait- 
ing for  this  time,  I  pray  Him  to  keep  me  in  the  same 
sentiments  I  have  always  had,  to  await  patiently  your 
will  after  I  have  sought  to  discover  His. 

"  On  the  subject  of  my  little  retreat  I  await  your 
answer  with  impatience  such  as  you  can  imagine,  but 


Wat  ting.  177 

with  entire  submission,  altJioiigh  I  have  the  greatest 
desire  for  it.  Whatever  your  answer  may  be,  it  will 
not  in  the  least  change  the  passion  it  will  find  in  me 
— a  passion  which  will  never  leave  me — of  proving  to 
you  how  much  more  I  am  by  the  affection  of  the 
heart  than  by  the  necessity  of  nature,  M.  my  father, 
your  very  humble  and  very  obedient  daughter  and 
servant,  JACQUELINE  Pascal. 

"  M.  Perier,  my  brother,  and  ma  fide le,  humbly  kiss 
your  hands." 

A  better  specimen  of  a  woman's  logic — compounded 
of  tenderness,  obedience,  defiance,  pleading,  argu- 
ment, and  religion — it  would  be  diflficult  to  find.  It 
is  easy  to  recognize  in  the  writer  the  little  girl  who 
sat  on  Richelieu's  knee,  and  through  tears  and  ca- 
resses, backed  by  genuine  determination  and  a  fine 
talent  for  sticking  closely  to  the  point,  obtained  her 
father's  pardon. 

We  are  not  told  whether  this  letter  brought  the 
desired  permission,  but  it  certainly  deserved  to  do  so. 

While  Jacqueline  was  at  Clermont,  living  in  the 
little  cold  room  partitioned  off  for  her,  making  "  coats 
and  garments  "  and  taking  them  to  the  hospital,  she 
became  acquainted  with  a  certain  good  Father  of  the 
Oratory,  who  seems  to  have  been  much  interested  in 
the  earnest  young  disciple.     Madame  Perier  says : 

"  The  good  man  often  came  to  see  my  sister,  and 
8* 


1 78  Sister  and  Saint. 

liis  edifying  conversation  gave  her  pleasure.  He  one 
day  said  to  her  that,  since  her  talents  had  formerly 
been  employed  on  worldly  themes,  it  was  but  reason- 
able that  she  should  now  use  them  in  some  attempt 
at  honoring  God  ;  that  he  had  heard  of  her  as  writing 
poetry,  and  had  thought  of  furnishing  her  with  an 
opportunity  of  thus  glorifying  God  by  translating  for 
her  some  of  the  Church  hymns  from  Latin  into 
French  prose,  which  she  might  afterward  versify. 
She  replied  promptly  that  she  was  quite  willing.  He 
brought  her  first  the  Ascension  hymn,  Jcsu,  nostra 
redeviptio,  which  is  chanted  every  day  at  the  Ora- 
tory, and  she  put  it  into  rhyme." 

This  hymn  is  supposed  to  have  been  written  by  St. 
Ambrose  in  the  year  390.  It  is  given  us  in  some  of 
our  church  collections  as  follows  : 

"  O  Christ !  our  Hope,  our  heart's  desire. 
Redemption's  only  spring ; 
Creator  of  the  world  art  Thou, 
Its  Saviour  and  its  King. 

"  How  vast  the  mercy  and  the  love 
Which  laid  our  sins  on  Thee  ; 
And  led  Thee  to  a  cruel  death 
To  set  Thy  people  free  ! 

"  But  now  the  bonds  of  death  are  burst. 
The  ransom  has  been  paid  ; 
And  Thou  art  on  Thy  Father's  throne. 
In  glorious  robes  arrayed. 

*'  O  Christ !  be  Thou  our  present  joy. 

Our  future  great  Reward  !  * 


Waiting.  1 79 

Our  only  glory  may  it  be 
To  glory  in  the  Lord  ! " 

It  may  be  interesting  to  some  readers  to  see  it  in 
Jacqueline  Pascal's  French  version: 

"Jesus,  digue  rangon  de  rhomme  rachete. 

Amour  de  notre  coeur  et  desir  de  notre  ame, 
Seul  Createur  de  tout,  Dieu  dans  I'eternite, 

Homme  a  la  fin  des  temps  naissant  d'une  femme. 

"  Quel  exces  de  clemence  a  su  ta  surmonter, 

Que,  portant  les  peches  de  son  peuple  rebelle, 
Tu  souffris  une  mort  horrible  d,  reconter. 
Pour  garantir  les  tiens  de  la  mort  eternelle  ? 

"Que  la  meme  bonte  t' oblige  maintenant, 

A  surmonter  les  maux  dont  ton  peuple  est  coupable ; 
Remplis  ses  justes  voeux  en  les  lui  pardonnant, 
Et  qu'il  jouisse'en  paix  de  tu  vue  ineffable. 

"  Sois  notre  unique  joie,  O  J6sus,  notre  Roi, 

Qui  seras  pour  toujours  notre  unique  salaire  ; 
Que  toute  notre  gloire  a  jamais  soit  on  toi, 
Dans  le  jour  ^ternel  o\\.  ta  splendeur  eclaire  !  " 

"The  good  father  thought  this  so  fine,"  continues 
Madame  Perier,  "  that  he  urged  her  to  proceed,  but 
her  scruples  were  aroused  by  the  reflection  that  she 
had  undertaken  the  work  without  due  consultation." 

She  wrote  to  Port  Royal  to  ask  advice,  and  re- 
ceived an  answer,  Sainte-Beuve  says  from  Agnes, 
Cousin  says  from  Angelique,  and  where  such  doctors 
disagree  we  would  not  undertake  to  settle  the  point. 


i8o  Sister  and  Saint. 

At  any  rate,  the  letter  probably  expresses  the  opin- 
ions of  both  sisters  on  the  subject,  and  they  had  forti- 
fied their  own  by  that  of  M.  Singlin.  "  I  have  ob- 
tained M.  Singlin's  opinion  on  the  questions  you  ask," 
the  letter  runs.  "  To  the  first "  (which  seems  to  have 
been  an  inquiry  into  the  propriety  of  some  employ- 
ment), "  he  says  that  nuns  must  not  work  for  vanity, 
and  it  would  be  better  for  you  to  work  on  it  a  little 
at  a  time  by  way  of  occupation.  As  to  the  second,  it 
is  better  for  you  to  hide  your  talents  of  that  nature, 
instead  of  making  them  known.  God  will  not  re- 
quire an  account  of  them,  and  they  must  be  buried,  for 
the  lot  of  women  is  humility  and  silence." 

Again,  ''  I  am  glad  that  you  have  yourself  antici- 
pated this  decision.  You  ought  to  hate  your  genius, 
and  all  the  other  traits  in  your  character  which,  per- 
haps, cause  the  world  to  retain  you,  for  where  it  has 
sown  it  would  fain  gather  the  harvest.  Our  Saviour 
will  do  the  same  in  His  own  good  time.  He  will  call 
for  the  fruit  of  that  divine  seed  which  He  has  set  in 
your  heart,  and  which,  with  patience,  will  become 
abundantly  multiplied.  This  is  all  He  now  asks 
of  us." 

"  When  Jacqueline  received  this  letter,"  says  her 
sister,  "  she  showed  it  to  me,  and,  without  giving  any 
reason,  begged  the  good  father  to  excuse  her  from 
proceeding  farther."  This  was,  then,  with  one  nota- 
ble exception,  Jacqueline  Pascal's  last  poetic  effort. 


Waiting.  1 8 1 

The  third  noteworthy  production  of  her  pen  during 
these  years  was  a  series  of  fifty-one  "  pensees  edifian- 
tes"  on  the  mystery  of  the  death  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ. 

It  was  the  custom  at  Port  Royal  to  decide  by  lot 
every  month  on  a  motto,  or  subject  of  meditation, 
for  each  member  of  the  sisterhood.  The  M6re  Agnes 
often  included  Jacqueline  in  this  drawing  of  lots,  and 
in  May,  165 1,  she  sent  her  the  subject  given  above 
with  this  kind  little  note :  "  I  have  drawn  for  you  the 
Mystery  of  Jesus  Christ's  Death,  and  the  same  subject 
has  also  fallen  to  my  lot.  I  have  thereby  been  led 
to  think  that  ....  none  of  those  holy  desires,  emo- 
tions, and  actions  which  God  inspires  in  us  can  reach 
their  full  perfection,  nor  aid  us  in  the  attainment  of 
Christian  holiness,  until  our  self-will  is  entirely  dead 
and  happily  swallowed  up  in  God's  will.  When  this 
is  done,  we  can  not  fail  of  experiencing  that  resurrec- 
tion which  gives  eternal  life.  Let  us  therefore  try, 
my  dear  sister,  to  realize  that  it  is  the  privilege  of  our 
heavenly  calling  to  die  daily,  and  let  us  not  shrink 
from  crucifying  our  own  inclinations,  if  we  may  there- 
by honor  Him  whose  death  has  procured  for  us  eter- 
nal life." 

These  reflections  of  Jacqueline  Pascal's  on  the  death 
of  Christ  would  be  rather  heavy  reading,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  writing,  for  most  young  ladies  of  the  present 
day,  however  religiously  inclined.     We  are  to  notice 


1 82  Sister  and  Saint. 

/ 

that  they  are  thoughts — not  feelings — and  that  each 
one  has  a  practical  bearing.  If  any  girl  will  make  the 
experiment  of  writing  out  fifty-one  distinct  thoughts 
on  any  one  single  fact,  she  will  get  an  impression  of 
the  quality  of  Jacqueline  Pascal's  mind. 

We  give  a  few  extracts,  choosing  them  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  brevity  chiefly : 


III. 

Jesus  died  in  reality,  and  not  figuratively,  or  in  de- 
sire only. 

This  teaches  me  that  I  ought  to  die  to  the  world 
effectively,  and  not  to  be  content  with  imaginations 
and  beautiful  speculations  about  it. 


IV. 

The  death  of  Jesus  has  nothing  extraordinary  about 
it ;  that  is  to  say.  His  body  "was  deprived  of  life,  as 
all  other  bodies  are,  and  death  took  possession  of  Him 
in  the  posture  and  in  the  manner  natural  to  that 
condition. 

This  teaches  me  that  although  I  ought  to  destroy 
within  me  the  flesh  and  all  its  desires,  there  should 
nevertheless  be  nothing  extraordinary  nor  singular  in 
my  actions ;  but  I  should  do  simply  those  things 
which  are  suitable  to  my  present  condition. 


Waiting.  183 


VIII. 

Jesus  did  not  wait  to  die  of  old  age,  but  antici- 
pated death  in  the  strength  of  His  youth. 

This  teaches  me  not  to  wait  till  the  decadence  of 
my  life  before  dying  to  the  world,  but  to  anticipate 
the  actual  by  the  mystic  death. 

X. 

Jesus  died  on  the  cross,  raised  above  all  the  world, 
having  ever}^'thing  under  His  feet,  even  His  blessed 
mother. 

I  learn  from  this  that  my  heart  should  be  above  all 
the  things  of  this  world,  and  that  by  this  elevation  of 
spirit,  which  is  not  proud,  but  heavenly,  I  should  rci 
gard  as  beneath  me  everything,  even  that  which  is 
most  grand  and  most  amiable. 

XV. 

Jesus  died  publicly,  before  the  eyes  of  all  who  chose 
to  gaze. 

I  learn  from  this  that  although  my  condition  may 
expose  me  to  the  eyes  of  the  world,  nevertheless  I 
should  die  to  it. 

XXVIII. 

I  see  Jesus  dead  in  three  different  places :  on  the 
cross  in  view  of  the  whole  world ;  descended  from  the 


184  Sister  and  Saint. 

cross  in  the  midst  of  His  friends ;  and  in  the  tomb  in 

entire  solitude  ;  and  in  these  three  places  He  is  equally- 
dead. 

This  teaches  me  that  in  whatever  state  I  may  find 
myself,  in  conversation  or  in  solitude,  I  should  equally 
be  dead  to  the  world. 

XXX. 

Jesus  was  clothed  after  His  death  with  the  garments 
suitable  to  the  dead. 

I  learn  from  this  to  show  by  my  dress  that  I  am 
dead  to  the  world. 

XXXII. 

Even  the  cloth  in  which  the  body  of  Jesus  was 
wrapped  did  not  belong  to  Him. 

I  learn  from  this  not  to  be  attached  to  the  things 
which  are  about  me,  even  those  which  are  most  useful. 


XLVII. 

Jesus  did  not  enter  triumphant  into  heaven  as  soon 
as  He  died  to  the  earth,  but  He  waited  patiently  sev- 
eral days. 

This  teaches  me  to  suffer  in  patience  the  privation 
of  celestial  consolations. 


Waiting.  185 

XLVIII. 

Jesus  died,  but  in  dying  He  did  not  leave  His  own 
comfortless.  He  sent  to  them  His  Holy  Spirit, 
which  is  His  Divine  Love,  to  dwell  with  them 
(though  invisible),  even  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

I  learn  from  this  that  in  whatever  manner  I  may 
be  separated  from  my  own,  I  ought,  nevertheless, 
always  to  dwell  with  them  by  an  affection  which  is 
born  of  God,  and  always  assist  them  with  my  prayers. 


It  ^vas  by  the  death  of  the  natural  body  of  Jesus 
that  He  gave  life  to  His  mystical  body,  which  is  the 
Church. 

This  teaches  me  that  my  death  to  the  world  should 
be  the  principle  of  my  life  in  God, 


THE   LORD   OPENS   THE   WAY, 


XIII. 


THE  LORD   OPENS  THE  WAY. 


THUS  the  months  and  the  years  had  passed 
away  till  Septemoer,  165 1.  "At  that  time," 
says  Madame  Perier,  ''my  father  was  seized 
with  the  illness  of  which  he  died,  and  my  sister  de- 
voted herself  to  attendance  upon  him  by  day  and 
night,  with  the  utmost  zeal  and  assiduity.  She  may 
be  said  to  have  done  nothing  else,  for  when  her 
presence  was  not  needed  in  his  room,  she  withdrew 
to  her  own  apartment,  where,  as  she  herself  told  me, 
she  prostrated  herself  and  prayed  for  him  incessantly 
with  tears.  But  God,  notwithstanding,  did  accord- 
ing to  His  own  will,  and  my  father  died,  September 
24th.  We  were  at  once  informed  of  it  (being  then  at 
Clermont),  but  my  state  of  health  prevented  us  irom 
reaching  Paris  before  the  last  of  November."  This 
was  the  time  when,  as  we  may  remember,  Madame 
Perier  "  preferred  to  incur  the  expense  and  trouble  " 
of  taking  her  little  girls  with  her  rather  than  run  the 

(iSg) 


190  Sister  and  Saint, 

risk  of  possible  ribbons  and  laces  bestowed  by  their 
indulgent  grandmother. 

While  Blaise  and  Jacqueline  waited  together  these 
few  weeks  in  the  house  of  mourning,  there  seems  to 
have  been  a  renewal  of  the  old,  beautiful,  tender  in- 
timacy between  them. 

"  My  brother  was  much  comforted  in  his  deep  afflic- 
tion by  her  society,"  says  Madame  Perier.  And, 
doubtless,  Jacqueline  was  as  much  comforted  by  her 
brother.  Notwithstanding  the  opposition  of  her 
opinion  to  that  of  her  father,  her  love  for  him  was 
deep  and  her  mourning  most  sincere.  Touched  by  a 
common  sorrow,  the  hearts  of  brother  and  sister  crept 
naturally  close  together.  Once  more  Jacqueline  be 
comes  her  brother's  scribe,  and  they  write  together  s 
long,  beautiful  letter  of  mingled  grief  and  consolation 
to  their  sister. 

"  Let  us  view  death,"  they  say,  "  in  Jesus  Christ, 

and  not  without  Him In  Christ  all  things  are 

pleasant,  and  work  together  for  our  good.  Death  is 
no  exception.  Christ  suffered  and  died  that  He 
might  sanctify  death  and  sorrow. 

"  It  is  not  right  for  us  to  be  without  grief,  even  as 
the  angels  who  are  unconscious  of  sorrow.  Neither 
ought  we  to  refuse  comfort,  as  do  the  heathen  in 

their  ignorance  of  grace It  is  our  duty  to  let 

the  comforts  of  grace  overcome  natural  sorrow,  and  to 
say  with  the  apostle,  *  Being  afflicted,  We  give  thanks.' 


The  Lord  Opens  the   Way.  191 

"A  holy  man  once  told  me  that  one  of  the  most 
advantageous  ways  of  showing  our  love  for  departed 
friends  is  ^  do  as  they  would  advise  us,  were  they 
still  living,  to  follow  their  counsels,  and  to  endeavor 
to  attain  that  state  of  holiness  in  which  they  would 
delight  to  see  us." 

And  then  Blaise  cries  out  in  his  own  name  (though 
the  handwriting  throughout  the  letter  is  Jacqueline's), 
"  His  loss  is  greater  to  me  than  to  the  others.  Had 
I  lost  him  six  years  ago  I  had  been  ruined,  and 
though  my  need  of  him  is  not  quite  so  absolute  at 
the  present  time,  it  seems  as  if  he  were  necessary  to 
me  for  the  next  ten  years,  and  his  presence  would 
have  been  useful  through  my  whole  life." 

Undoubtedly,  during  the  three  years  just  past, 
father  and  son  had  been  much  thrown  upon  each 
other  for  companionship,  and  the  separation  was  the 
more  keenly  felt  on  that  account.  Perhaps,  also, 
there  was  another  reason  for  his  feeling  the  need  of  a 
father's  restraining  and  inspiring  presence. 

As  we  have  seen,  his  path  and  Jacqueline's  have 
been  all  this  time  diverging.  Not  only  was  he  not 
ready  to  follow  her  up  to  her  cold,  calm  heights,  but 
his  feet  had,  actually,  for  a  time,  turned  in  another 
(and  in  Jacqueline's  austere  judgment),  an  opposite 
direction. 

That  he  had  not  lost  his  faith  is  abundantly 
proved   by  the  letter  from  which  we  have  quoted. 


T92  Sister  and  Saint. 

But  cut  off  from  all  study,  either  secular  or  religious; 
deprived  of  the  old  home  enjoyments  by  the  absence 
of  one  sister  and  the  still  greater  inaccessibility  of  the 
present  one  ;  denied,  both  by  ill-health  a»d  by  his 
easy  circumstances,  the  invigorating  effect  of  manual 
labor,  it  would  have  been  a  marvel  if  the  young  man's 
life  had  not  acquired  a  taint  of  aimlessness.  At  first, 
when  the  physicians  had  ordered  him  to  "  abandon 
every  sort  of  mental  occupation,  and  seek,  as  much  as 
he  could,  opportunities  of  amusing  himself,"  he  was 
very  reluctant  to  take  their  advice,  "  because  "  (keen, 
clear,  honest  logician  that  he  was  !)  "  he  saw  its  danger T 

"At  length,  however,  he  yielded,  thinking  it  his 
duty  to  do  all  he  could  to  restore  his  health,  and 
believing  that  trivial  amusements  could  not  harm 
him."  And  so,  to  use  the  severe  expression  of  Jan- 
senism, Pascal  had  "  set  himself  on  the  world." 

Margaret  Perier,  his  niece,  relieves  the  picture  by 
a  few  slight  details : 

"  In  consequence  of  my  uncle's  miserable  state  of 
health,"  she  s^ys,  "  the  physicians  had  to  interdict  all 
mental  effort ;  but  a  disposition  so  lively  and  energetic 
as  his  could  not  long  remain  idle.  When  he  was  no 
longer  busied  in  scientific  pursuits,  or  in  religious 
studies  requiring  close  application,  he  felt  the  need  of 
amusement,  and  this  drove  him  into  company  where 
he  played  cards  and  joined  in  other  diversions.  At 
first   he  did  so  in  moderation  ;  but   by  degrees  his 


The  Lord  Opens  the    Way.  193 

taste  for  society  increased,  and  though  his  life  was 
never  in  the  least  vicious  or  irregular,  it  gradually  be- 
came gay,  frivolous,  and  useless At  length  he 

made  up  his  mind  to  follow  the  common  routine, 
purchase  some  office,  and  marry." 

And  this  is  the  worst  that,  in  all  the  Port  Royal 
and  the  family  annals,  can  be  found  set  down  against 
those  few  deeply-regretted  years. 

But  now  his  father's  death  recalls  Blaise  Pascal  from 
whatever  worldly  pleasures  he  may  have  been  enjoy- 
ing, and  the  loss  of  that  father's  affectionate  presence 
throws  him  back  upon  his  sisters  for  the  love  he  so 
much  needs  both  to  give  and  to  receive. 

How  beautifully  the  strong,  natural  affection  blazes 
up  at  this  opportunity — that  affection  so  soon  to  be 
resolutely  smothered,  though  never  extinguished ! 
"May  God  continue  in  my  heart,"  he  says,  "that 
love  for  you  and  my  sister  which  seems  to  me  greater 
at  this  moment  than  it  ever  was  before.  I  feel  as  if 
the  love  we  used  to  lavish  on  my  father  ought  not  to 
be  lost,  but  to  be  gathered  up  and  concentrated  oji  each 
other.  The  legacy  of  love  he  left  us  should  be  in- 
vested in  a  deeper  fraternal  affection,  if  that  were 
possible." 

With  such  feelings  in  his  heart,  with  Jacqueline  by 

his  side,  writing  for  him  and  ministering  to  him  in 

her  old  sisterly  way,  it  is  not  strange  that  he  should 

have  been  "  much  comforted,"  nor  that   he  should 

9 


194  Sister  and  Saint. 


have  "  imagined  that  kindness  would  induce  her  to 
stay  with  him  at  least  a  year,  to  help  him  in  recover- 
ing from  this  great  calamity." 

But  Jacqueline's  purpose  was  exactly  what  it  had 
been  for  three  years.  The  Lord  had  now  removed 
the  only  obstacle  in  the  way  of  her  fulfilling  it.  There 
was,  then,  in  her  view,  but  one  thing  for  her  to  do. 
She  would  take  the  portion  of  goods  that  fell  to  her 
and  go  to  Port  Royal.  Till  her  sister  could  come, 
and  the  property  could  be  divided,  she  would  stay 
with  her  brother.  And  while'  she  stayed  she  would 
be  his  loving,  sympathizing,  and  tender  sister.  She 
would  not  add  to  his  grief  if  it  were  possible  to  help 
it.  She  would  make  the  wrench  as  gentle  as  possi- 
ble. "  She  concealed  her  intentions  till  we  arrived," 
says  her  sister.  "  She  then  told  me  that  she  meant 
to  take  the  veil  as  soon  as  the  estate  was  divided,  and 
that  she  should  spare  my  brother's  feelings  by  letting 
him  suppose  she  was  only  going  to  make  a  retreat  at 
Port  Royal." 

A  month  passed  after  Madame  Perier's  arrival  at 
Paris  before  the  estate  was  settled.  During  this  time 
Jacqueline  "disposed  of  everything"  in  preparation 
for  retirement  from  the  world.  On  the  last  day  of 
December  the  division  of  property  was  made,  and 
the  last  papers  signed.  Jacqueline  had  a  part  of  her 
own  share  transferred  to  her  brother,  but  she  kept  a 
considerable  sum — her  fdowry  for  her  "  divine  be- 
trothal " — about  which  more  hereafter. 


The  Lord  Opens  the    Way.  .  195 

_ « 

Three  days  after  the  settlement  she  left  her  home 
forever.     This  is  her  sister's  simple  story : 

"  On  the  evening  before,  she  begged  me  to  say 
something  to  my  brother,  that  he  might  not  be  taken 
by  surprise.  I  did  so,  with  all  the  precaution  I 
could ;  but  though  I  hinted  something  about  '  a  re- 
treat,' he  did  not  fail  to  be  deeply  moved.  He  with- 
drew very  sad  to  his  own  chamber,  without  seeing 
my  sister,  who  was  then  in  a  small  cabinet  where  she 
was  accustomed  to  retire  for  prayer.  She  did  not 
come  out  till  my  brother  had  left,  as  she  feared  his 
look  would  go  to  her  heart. 

"  I  told  her  for  him  what  words  of  tenderness  he 
had  spoken,  and  after  that  we  both  retired.  Though 
I  consented  with  all  «ny  heart  to  what  my  sister  was 
doing,  because  I  thought  it  was  for  her  highest  good, 
the  greatness  of  her  resolution  astonished  and  occu- 
pied my  mind  so  much  that  I  could  not  sleep  all 
night. 

"At  seven  o'clock  the  next  morning,  when  I  saw 
that  my  sister  was  not  up,  I  concluded  that  she  was 
no  longer  sleeping,  and  feared  she  might  be  ill. 
Accordingly,  I  went  to  her  bed,  where  I  found  her 
still  fast  asleep.  The  noise  I  made  awoke  her ;  she 
asked  me  what  time  it  was.  I  told  her ;  and  having 
inquired  ho-\\^  she  was  and  if  she  had  slept  well,  she 
said  she  was  very  well  and  had  slept  excellently. 

"  So  she  rose,  dressed,  and  went  away,  doing  this,  as 


ig6  Sister  and  Saint. 


everything  else,  with  a  tranquilHty  and  equanimity 
inconceivable. 

"  We  said  no  adieu  for  fear  of  breaking  dozvn.  I 
only  turned  aside  when  I  saw  her  ready  to  go. 

"  In  this  manner  she  quitted  the  world  on  the  4th 
of  January,  1652,  being  then  exactly  twenty-six  years 
and  three  months  old." 

Thus  ends  Madame  Periei's  sketch  of  the  sister's 
life,  from  which  we  have  quoted  so  often. 

How  touching  in  their  simplicity  are  these  last 
words  !     How  full  of  suppressed,  unselfish  love  ! 

"  What  a  picture,"  says  Principal  Tulloch,  "  does 
this  extract  give  us  of  this  remarkable  family ! — the 
elder  sister's  wakeful  anxiety— the  younger's  calm 
determination  —  the  brother's  half-suppressed  yet 
deeply-moved  tenderness-  the  proud  and  sensitive 
reserve  of  all  the  three !  " 

To  our  mind,  the  elder  sister,  acting  as  medium 
between  Blaise  and  Jacqueline,  who  dared  not  trust 
themselves  to  meet  —  quite  forgetting  herself  in 
tender  concern  for  each  of  them  —  shielding  and 
soothing  the  wounded  brother,  yet  rising  to  full 
sympathy  with  Jacqueline  in  her  high  resolve — al- 
ways unselfish,  always  "la  fidele,''  forms  the  noblest 
figure  of  the  group.  Yet  there  is  dignity  in  the 
silent  Blaise,  sitting  "  very  sad,"  but  unremonstrating, 
uncomplai^ning  in  his  chamber.  And  there  is  a  won- 
derful calm  brightness  about  the  noble  girl  sleeping 


The  Lord  Opens  the   Way.  197 


"  excellently "  on  the  eve  of  so  great  and  solemn  a 
change.  Was  this  from  want  of  love  and  tenderness  ? 
Gilberte  knew  belter  than  that !  "  She  feared  his  look 
would  go  to  her  hearth  *'  We  said  no  adieu  for  fear 
of  breaking  dozun." 

Port  Royal  opened  joyous  gates  to  the  dear  sister 
who  had  so  long  waited  for  admittance.  Jacqueline 
was  assigned  at  first  to  the  Paris  house,  and  entered 
at  once  upon  the  active  duties  of  the  convent  as  pos- 
tulant or  candidate. 

It  was,  undoubtedly,  a  pleasant  and  a  healthful 
change  from  the  life  of  solitude  and  introversion  she 
had  been  leading.  At  the  same  time  there  were  in- 
conveniences and  hardships  attendant  on  convent 
life  which  might  have  severely  shocked  the  delicate, 
high-bred  girl  had  she  not  wisely  made  some  prepa- 
ration for  them.  The  abbesses  Angolique  and  Agnes 
allowed  no  luxuries  to  themselves  or  to  their  nuns, 
except  the  luxury  of  charity.  The  utmost  poverty 
and  bareness  prevailed  throughout  the  whole  build- 
ing, and  the  nuns'  cell's — the  only  thing  in  the  world 
which  they  could  call  their  own — were  no  exception 
to  the  rule.  The  story  is  told  of  one  of  the  Arnaulds, 
that,  on  going  to  her  cell  for  the  first  time,  at  night, 
she  covered  the  one  bare  little  table  with  a  white 
cloth  and  made  such  few  simple  preparations  for  her 
toilet  as  circumstances  admitted.  The  abbess — her  own 
sister  Angelique — noticed  it  in  her  nightly  round,  and 


198  Sister  and  Saint. 

"  laaghed  in  her  heart."  However,  she  said  nothing  that 
night,  but  the  next  day  the  simple  little  appointments 
— cloth  and  all — were  removed.  When  the  young  sistei 
came  to  her  cell  the  second  night  and  found  it  bare 
again,  she  thought  there  had  been  some  mistake  and 
again  spread  a  clean  white  handkerchief  over  the  table. 
But  once  more  it  was  removed,  and  so  it  went  on  till 
she  had  thoroughly  learned  the  lesson  and  cheerfully 
submitted  to  it.  It  was  a  part  of  the  great  lesson  of 
"the  mystery  of  the  poverty  of  Christ." 

Jacqueline  Pascal  had  been  humbly  trying  to  learn 
that  lesson  in  her  own  cheerless  chamber  at  home, 
and  probably  she  found  little  difficulty  in  suiting  her- 
self to  a  new  lack  of  comforts.  Her  dress,  too — the 
ugly  and  harassing  combination  described  by  Gil- 
berte — must  have  been  willingly  exchanged  for  the 
novice's  costume — a  "  loose,  gray  robe,  cut  on  the 
cross,  fastened  round  the  throat  and  hanging  to  the 
feet."  The  beauty  of  this  dress,  according  to  Angel- 
ique,  was  that  "all  kinds  of  work  could  be  done  in 
it,"  and  all  kinds  of  work  were  done  by  candidates, 
novices,  and  sisters  of  all  degrees,  from  cleaning  the 
hen-house  and  scouring  the  saucepans  tcr  the  most 
exquisite  darning  and  the  reverent  care  of  the  altar 
furniture. 

"  We  used  to  go  into  the  kitchen  by  turns  for  a 
week  together,"  says  Anne  Arnauld.  "  We  liked  hard 
work   of  all   kinds,   and   I   was   particularly   fond   of 


The  Lord  Opens  the   Way.  199 


sweeping  the  floors,  remembering  that  St.  Theresa 
took  great  pleasure  in  it.  In  the  summer  mornings 
we  used  to  go  into  the  garden  and  dig  in  silence  with 
great  zeal.  We  rose  at  two  to  say  matins  and  did  not 
go  to  bed  again  after  that  time.  In  winter  the  church 
was  very  cold,  but  no  one  complained  of  it,  and  our 
clothing  was  not  much  warmer  in  winter  than  it  was 
in  summer." 

The  "  Constitutions  of  Port  Royal,"  drawn  up  by 
the  Mere  Agnes,  give  us  a  similar  view  of  humility 
and*  activity.  "  The  novices,"  says  this  authority, 
"  are  not  to  be  fed  with  milk  and  honey,  by  being 
humored   and    treated  gently,  but  with   the   strong 

meat  of  self-denial  and  humiliations Industry 

is  a  positive  duty,  each  sister  being  expected  to 
perform  a  certain  amount  of  work  daily,  the  more 
humiliating  the  better,  and  to  love  her  task,  because 
the  Saviour  stooped  to  practice  a  lowly  trade,  and  so 
did  His  apostles.  They  make  their  own  habits  and 
shoes,  as  well  as  linen,  wafers,  and  wax  candles.  Book- 
binding is  also  one  of  our  occupations,  and  we  make 
lanterns,  candlesticks,  and  other  useful  articles  of  tin." 
....  (Embroideries  and  artificial  flowers  were  never 
introduced    at    Port    Royal).     "When  at   work,  the 

sisters  are  to  be  silent  and  meditative Strict 

silence  is  enjoined  for  some  hours  of  each  day,  except 
in  case  of  absolute  necessity,  and  even  then  the  use 
of   sifjns   is   recommended Those   possessing 


200  Sister  and  Samt. 

good  voices  are  carefully  trained  to  sing  in  the  choir, 
under  the  direction  of  a  leader,  who  must  strain  every 
nerve  to  prevent  the  possibility  of  a  mistake  or  fail- 
ure in  the  worship  of  the  sanctuary ;  yet  the  leader  is 
not  to  assume  undue  authority,  ox  permit  her  voice  to 
be  heard  above  the  others  !  " 

One  of  the  sweetest  duties  of  the  convent  to  Jac- 
queline was,  doubtless,  what  was  called  "  the  perpetual 
adoration  of  the  Holy  Sacrament."  This  expression 
is  a  little  startling  to  Protestant  ears,  but  it  only  signi- 
fied "  that  every  nun  was  to  spend  a  portion  of  each 
day  in  silent  prayer  before  the  altar,  and  to  wait  there 
till  relieved  by  one  of  her  companions."  They  had 
no  set  form  of  prayer  for  the  occasion,  but  were  to 
invoke  the  special  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit  to  bring 
their  wishes  into  accordance  with  God's  will,  ^^  and 
not  dwelling  on  their  own  persoiial  tvants  or  sins,  were 
to  forget  self  and  plead  earnestly  for  the  good  of 
the  Church  universal  and  the  extension  of  Christ  s 
kingdom.  They  were  taught  to  hope'  that  by  thus 
trying  to  imitate  the  blessed  ones  who  "■  rest  not  day 
nor  night  "  in  their  worship,  and  "  expelling  as  far  as 
possible  all  earthly  interests  from  the  heart,  Christ 
would  fill  it  with  the  precious  balm  of  His  grace, 
and  perfume  their  poor  prayers  with  the  incense  of 
His  own  merits.  The  remembrance  of  this  hallowed 
hour  was  also  to  accompany  them  through  the  rest 
of  the  day.     Their  motto  was  to  be,  '  I  sleep,  but  my 


The  Lord  Opens  the   Way.  201 

heart  worketh,'  meaning  that  no  occupation  ought  to 
distract  their  minds  from  continued  prayer  and  com- 
munion with  Jesus." 

Of  course,  in  addition  to  this  daily  worship  in  the 
church,  and  fixed  hours  for  each  one  in  her  own  cell, 
the  sisterhood  observed  the  ordinary  Church  routine 
of  lasts  and  festivals.  The  Bible  was,  moreover,  daily 
read  aloud — not  a  common  custom  in  a  convent  at 
that  time,  if  it  is  at  present.  The  nuns  were  urged 
to  learn  portions  of  it  by  heart.  "  Let  them  try  to 
fill  the  treasury  of  their  minds  with  God's  word,"  say 
the  Constitutions.  "  It  is  more  desirable  than  gold 
or  precious  stones." 

One  hour  of  every  day  was  allowed  the  sisters  "  in 
which  to  make  confession  of  losses,  accidents,  or 
slight  failures  in  duty."  There  was  another  "  hour  of 
conference,"  in  summer,  spent  in  the  garden,  where 
each  one  was  permitted  to  speak  freely,  ''  provided 
she  did  so  with  discretion  and  grave  politeness,  as 
well  as  care  not  to  interrupt  others,  or  put  herself  un- 
duly forward." 

Such  was  the  daily  course  of  Jacqueline  Pascal's 

life  during  these  first  months  at  Port  Royal.    We  are 

obliged  to  learn  of  it  from  the  convent  rules  and  not 

from  herself,  for  at  first  she  wrote  very  little,  even  to 

her  faithful   Gilberte.     Indeed,  the  "  Constitutions  " 

require  that  letters  should  be  rarely  written.     They 

were  never  sent  without  inspection,  nor  were  they 
ft* 


202  Sister  and  Saint. 

ever  to  be  very  affectionate.     "  The  best  way  of  ex- 
pressing love  is  in  prayer  for  its  object." 

Without  doubt,  Jacqueline  was  happy.  But  one 
great  burden  lay  on  her  heart — one  great  longing 
took  possession  of  her  soul.  It  was  the  longing  for 
her  brother's  full  sympathy.  As  the  time  drew  near 
for  her  to  take  the  veil  the  burden  weighed  heavier, 
the  longing  grew  more  intense.  Her  few  letters  at 
this  time  are  grave  and  repressed.  It  is  not  till  later, 
when  actual  trial  and  persecution  are  staring  her  in 
the  face,  but  when  her  heart  is  lightened  of  this  great 
weight,  that  we  catch  once  more  an  occasional  gleam 
of  her  youthful  playfulness. 


FRESH    TRIALS. 


XIV. 


FRESH    TRIALS. 


THE  usual  period  of  probation  at  Port  Royal 
was  a  year,  but  Jacqueline  had  in  effect 
been  on  probation  before  she  entered  the 
convent,  and,  in  her  case,  the  time  was  shortened  to 
four  months. 

It  was  arranged  that  she  should  take  the  veil  as  a 
novice  in  May.  And  looking  forward  to  that  joyful 
occasion,  there  is  but  one  thing  lacking  to  render  her 
happiness  complete. 

Early  in  March  she  wrote  a  long  letter  to  her 
brother — a  letter  as  remarkable  as  the  one  she  wrote 
her  father  when  begging  for  a  "  retreat "  at  Port 
Royal. 

"  This  letter  reveals,"  says  Cousin,  "  both  the 
woman  and  the  saint,  the  mingled  passion  and  ob- 
stinacy which  distinguish  the  whole  family,  and  withal 
a  charming  sweetness — a  blending  of  humble  entreat- 
ies with  the  accent  of  command."     She  signs  herself 

C205) 


2o6  Sister  and  Saint. 

already  "  sceur  de  Sainte-Euphemie,"  the  "  new 
name"  which  she  is  to  receive  on  the  day  of  the 
coming  ceremony.  (Strange  that  while  cutting  them- 
selves away  from  all  natural  relationships,  and  break- 
ing the  most  sacred  bonds,  these  monks  and  nuns 
must  yet  borrow  the  names  of  human  ties  to  express 
their  ideal  of  their  place  in  God's  world  !  Father — 
mother — brother — sister — they  can  find  no  more  sa- 
cred titles  by  which  to  show  what  they  believe  to  be 
the  highest  and  holiest  estate  for  man  or  woman !) 

Through  the  greater  part  of  this  letter  Jacqueline 
addresses  her  brother  with  the  grave  and  formal 
"  you,"  but  now  and  then  she  forgets  herself  and  re- 
lapses into  the  old  familiar  "  thou."  She  begs  him 
by  all  their  former  intimacy  to  give  her  "  his  kindly 
greeting"  in  this  solemn  act,  and  yet  she  reminds 
him  that  she  is  now  her  own  mistress,  and  can  do  as 
she  pleases  without  his  consent !  In  short,  the  whole 
eight  pages  are  just  as  illogical,  just  as  affectionate, 
just  as  proud,  as  noble,  and  as  thoroughly  feminine 
as  was  that  long  letter  to  her  father  three  years  be- 
fore. 

See  how  skillfully  she  touches  upon  every  motive 
which"  can  possibly  have  weight  in  her  brother's 
mind : 

"  Do  you  remember  the  time,"  she  says,  "  when  I 
loved  the  world,  and  when  my  knowledge  and  love  of 
God  increased  my  guilt,  because  my  heart  was  so  un- 


Fresh    Trials,  207 


equally  divided  between  two  masters?  Do  you  re- 
member that  it  'Wd.syou  who  first  tried  to  convince  me 
that  I  could  not  unite  two  things  so  opposed  as  the 
spirit  of  religion  and  the  spirit  of  the  world?" 

"  You  ought,  in  some  measure,  to  judge  of  my  affec- 
tion by  your  own,  and  to  consider  that,  even  if  I  am 
strong  enough  to  persevere,  despite  your  resistance,  I 
may  not  be  able  to  bear  up  against  the  grief  it  will 
cause  me."  As  if  she  would  say,  "  I  am  human  still, 
though  you  may  not  believe  it ;  I  have  a  heart  and  you 
can  make  it  ache." 

"  You  have  the  power  of  troubling  my  peace,"  she 
goes  on,  "  but  you  can  not  restore  it  if,  through  your 
fault,  I  should  once  lose  it.  Do  not  take  that  away 
which  you  can  not  give." 

"  Do  not  hinder  those  who  do  well ;  and  do  well 
yourself ;  at  least,  if  you  have  not  the  strength  to  fol- 
low me,  do  not  hold  me  back." 

"  How  strange  that  you  should  have  such  scruples ! 
You  would  not  try  to  prevent  my  marrying  a  prince, 
nor  think,  if  I  did  so,  it  were  not  my  duty  to  follow 
him,  even  to  a  place  very  far  removed  from  you." 

"  I  await  this  proof  of  your  affection,"  she  con- 
cludes (his  presence  at  the  ceremony).  ..."  Of  course 
my  invitation  is  a  mere  form,  for  /  do  not  imagine  you 
wonld  dream  of  siayiiig  dzvay  .^  ....  I  have  written 
to  my  sister.  I  ask  you  to  console  her,  if  necessary, 
and  to  encourage  her.     I  tell  her  that  if  she  wishes  to 


2o8  Sister  and  Saint. 

come,  it  will  delight  me  to  see  her,  but  that  if  she 

comes  in  the  hope  of  making  me  change  my  mind, 
her  pains  will  be. thrown  away.  I  say  the  same  to 
you.  Now,  do  with  a  good  grace  what  you  must  do 
any  way ;  I  mean,  do  it  in  a  spirit  of  kindness,  and 
do  not  make  me  unhappy.  Farewell,  my  very  dear 
brother." 

This  letter  brought  Blaise  at  once  to  his  sister's 
side.  He  came  the  day  after  receiving  it,  and  saw 
her  for  the  first  time,  perhaps,  since  she  left  him,  in 
the  convent  parlor  through  the  grated  window. 

"  He  was  nearly  wild  with  a  terrible  headache," 
Jacqueline  writes  to  Madame  Perier — "  the  result  of 
my  letter.  Yet  he  was  much  softened ;  for  instead  of 
the  two  years'  delay  he  had  asked  before,  he  only 
wanted  me  to  wait  till  All  Saints'  Day" — the  last  of 
October.  "  But  seeing  me  determined  not  to  put  it 
off  long,  and  yet  complaisant  enough  to  allow  him  a 
little  more  time  to  get  accustomed  to  the  thought,  he 
gave  up  entirely,  and  even  expressed  pity  for  me  that 
I  had  been  obliged  to  delay  so  long  that  which  I  had 
set  my  heart  upon.  Nevertheless,  he  did  not  return 
at  the  appointed  hour  to  settle  the  exact  time,  but 
M.  d'Andilly,  by  my  request,  was  good  enough  to 
send  for  him  Saturday,  and  to  argue  with  him  so  skill- 
fully and  yet  cordially  that  he  agreed  to  everything 
we- wished." 

Thus  far  Jacqueline  had  gained  her  point,  but  pain- 


Fresh    Trials.  209 

ful  difficulties  were  yet  to  come — difficulties  of  a  kind 
quite  unthought  of  by  her.  She  had  no  idea  of  enter- 
ing Port  Royal  empty-handed,  and  took  it  as  a  matter 
of  course  that  her  portion  of  her  father's  property  was 
to  go  to  endow  the  convent.  But  to  her  great  sur- 
prise, her  brother  and  her  sister — yes,  even  her  faith- 
ful Gilberte — were  not  inclined  to  agree  with  her  in 
this  view.  If  she  had  chosen  the  spiritual  riches, 
they  seemed  to  think  it  but  right  and  natural  that 
they  should  have  the  earthly.  They  viewed  the 
case,  as  poor  Jacqueline  says,  *'  in  an  entirely  secular 
manner."  The  mixture  of  grief,  vexation,  and  morti- 
fication in  her  heart  at  this  unexpected  contretemps  is 
curious  to  witness.  For  the  proud  and  high-spirited 
daughter  of  M.  Pascal  to  come  to  Port  Royal  portion- 
less, is,  indeed,  a  bitter  thing.  But  she  humbles  her- 
self even  to  this,  and  "begs  earnestly"  for  admission 
as  a  "lay-sister."  "  If  my  reception  must  be  a  gratu- 
itous one,  I  thought  tha<(j!lout  of  gratitude  to  the  sis- 
terhood, for  the  double  favor  of  welcoming  me  with- 
out a  dowry,  I  could  do  no  less  than  serve  them  as  a 

menial  for  the  rest  of  my  life But  God,  the 

Searcher  of  hearts,  knew  me  to  be  unworthy  of  an 
office  so  honorable  in  His  sight,  and  that  my  past  and 
present  pride  needed  a  punishment  instead  of  a  re- 
ward. He  therefore  restrained  Father  Singlin  from 
giving  his  consent." 

In   a   ''  Relation,"  which  takes  up   fifty  pages  of 


2IO  Sister  and  Saint. 

Cousin's  volume,  Jacqueline  gives  the  detaih;  of  this 
whole  affair.  The  paper  was  written  not  in  her  own 
interest,  but  as  part  of  the  "  Memoirs  of  Port  Royal," 
and  notwithstanding  its  length,  it  is  worthy  the  read- 
ing of  any  one  who  is  interested  in  the  study  of  char- 
acter. It  shows  that  the  infirmities  of  human  nature, 
in  convents  and  out  of  them,  were  much  the  same  in 
the  seventeenth  century  as  now.  Yet  at  the  same 
time  it  shows  how  far  love  and  right  feeling  and  re- 
ligion can  go  toward  conquering  those  infirmities. 

At  first  Jacqueline  has  nothing  but  indignation  and 
a  fine  scorn  to  bestow  on  her  brother  and  sister.  Her 
years  of  mortification  had  not  placed  her  beyond  the 
possibility  of  genuine  anger  and  vexation.  "  My  res- 
olution," she  says,  "  which  they  thought  so  unkind, 
gave  my  friends  a  fine  chance  of  moralizing  over  the 
instability  of  human  affections  !  " 

.  Both  Blaise  and  Gilberte  wrote,  giving  as  reasons 
for  their  refusal,  the  entagtfeinent  of  her  share  of  the 
property  with  their  own,  and  various  technical  difificul- 
ties.  If  she  tvoiildzvait  four  years,  till  all  claims  on  the 
estate  had  been  settled,  they  would  think  of  it.  "  Dis- 
ingenuous arguments  ! "  she  exclaims,  "  which,  had 
they  been  less  irritated,  they  would  never  have  named  ! 
Not  that  these  reasons  were  actually  untrue,"  she 
goes  on  to  say,  "  but  they  were  not  S2ich  as  zve  had 
been  acejcstomed  to  tise  zvith  one  anotlier  !  Just  thinlc, 
my  dear  mother,  how  these  letters  made  me  feel ! — 


Fresh    Trials.  2 1 1 


written  in  a  style  so  changed  !  .  .  .  .  my  grief  became 
so  violent  that  it  seems  wonderful  I  lived  through  it." 

''  This  strong  expression,"  says  Sainte-Beuve,  "  is 
no  exaggeration.  She  does  nearly  die  of  it.  Her 
intense,  enthusiastic  nature,  frustrated  on  the  point 
of  the  triumphant  fulfillment  of  her  vow,  and  that, 
too,  by  a  thrust  from  those  whom  she  loves,  is  almost 
overpowered.  And  we  recognize  here  the  same  ten- 
der, conscientious,  womanly  heart  that  a  few  years 
later  falls  a  victim  to  its  own  scruples  and  reproaches." 

The  dear  Mother  Agnes  sees  Jacqueline's  heavy 
grief  and  sends  for  her — her  "  fille  cherie  " — for  a  long 
private  talk.  With  the  greatest  tact  and  wisdom  she 
deals  with  the  wounded  heart.  "  Only  eternal  things 
are  worth  such  emotion  as  this,"  she  says.  "  Tempo- 
ral matters  ought  never  to  call  forth  these  tears — only 
the  real  evils,  sins,  deserve  those."  And  then,  trying 
the  effect  of  a  little  gayety,  she  declares  that  she  is 
*'  really  astonished  !  that  it  is  almost  incredible  that 
she,  a  novice — a  novice  of  Port  Royal!  —  ready  to 
make  her  profession — is  capable  of  being  afflicted  by 
anything,  least  of  all  by  such  a  bagatelle  as  a  little 
money! " 

But  though  the  novice's  heart  is  lightened  for  a 
time,  Agnes  sees  that  she  has  not  effected  a  cure.  So, 
in  the  kindness  of  her  heart,  she  sets  out  for  Dcs 
Champs  to  tell  Angclique  all  about  it,  and  Father 
Singlin,  too,  who  happens  to  be  there  for  a  few  days 


212  Sister  and  Saint. 


The  Mdre  Angelique's  advice  is  characteristic. 
"Tell  her  to  relinquish  it  all  t'o  her  relatives,  and  not 
to  mix  herself  up  in  the  matter  any  further.  And  let 
her  give  her  whole  mind  to  her  approaching  profes- 
sion." 

Dowry  or  no  dowry,  lay-sister  or  lady-boarder — the 
profession  was  the  main  thing  in  Angelique's  mind. 
That  was  a  matter  of  course.  When  was  Port  Royal 
— since  sJie  had  anything  to  do  with  it,  certainly — 
known  to  delay  a  profession  on  the  score  of  poverty  ? 

But  good  Father  Singlin  has  the  guidance  not  only 
of  Jacqueline's  conscience,  but  of  the  Reverend  Moth- 
er's as  well,  and  by  this  time  he  has  gained  a  good 
deal  of  facility  in  reading  souls.  "  He  did  not  en- 
tirely agree  with  our  Mother,"  says  the  Relation,  "  for 
he  feared  there  might  be  too  much  generosity  and 
too  little  humility  in  the  advice !  " 

And  he  "  improved  "  the  occasion  (perhaps  on  the 
way  back  to  Paris,  whither  they  both  returned  the 
next  day),  by  a  few  short  remarks.  "  When  we  have 
overcome  the  avarice  of  wealth,"  he  said,  "we  ought 
to  beware  of  falling  into  the  opposite  extreme  and 
.becoming  greedy  of  praise,  and  ostentatious  of  our 
generosity,  while  we  despise  those  who  still  cling  to 
their  property." 

After  some  further  conference,  however,  he  advised 
Jacqueline  to  adopt  the  M^re  Angelique's  plan,  but 
he  chose  to  dictate  her  letter  to  her  brother  himself, 


Fresh    Trials,  213 


"lest  my  owit  words  should  be  too  warm,"  says  Jac- 
queline, frankly.  "This  letter,"  she  continues,  "could 
not  be  short,  and  it  kept  me  busy  till  evening  so  that 
I  did  not  see  our  Mother.  But,  on  the  next  day, 
as  was  her  custom  after  returning  from  the  coun- 
try, she  sent  for  all  the  novices,  and  when  my  turn 
came  to  salute  her,  I  could  not  help  saying  that  I  was 
the  only  sorrowful  one  among  the  sisters,  who  were 
all  delighted  at  her  return.  '  What  ?  '  said  she,  '  is  it 
possible,  my  daughter,  that  you  are  still  sad  ?  Were 
you  not  prepared  for  trials  ?'....  And  then  she 
talked  to  me  a  long  time  on  the  emptiness  of  all  human 
affection  J  keeping  her  arm  around  me  tvitJi  much  teti' 
derness  I ' — dear,  inconsistent  Angelique  ! 

"  The  next  day,  also,  '  having  noticed  that  my  looks 
were  unusually  sad,'  she  left  the  choir  before  Mass 
began,  and  sending  for  me,  did  her  best  to  give 
me  comfort.  Not  content  with  this  brief  effort  of 
kindness,  as  soon  as  Mass  was  over,  she  signed  to  me 
to  follow  her,  and  then  supported  my  head  on  her 
bosom  for  a  full  hour,  caressing  me  all  the  time  with 
a  mother's  tenderness.  I  can  truly  say  that  she 
omitted  nothing  in  her  power  that  could  charm  away 
my  distress." 

'[  I  told  her,"  says  Jacqueline,  naively,  "  that  it  was 
the  injustice  done  to  the  establishment  that  troubled 
me,  and  that  personally  I  was  neither  hurt  nor  angry, 
but    simply   indifferent.      'You    are    mistaken,   my 


214  Sister  and  Saint. 

daughter,'  said  she.  '  Nothing  is  more  painful  or  hard 
to  bear  than  wounded  affection.  I  know  you  feel 
deeply  the  injustice  done  to  the  House,  but  your  own 
share  in  this  gives  you  a  keener  pang,  for  self-love 
mingles  in  everything  we  do,  and  is  the  mainspring  of 
this  mighty  sorrow  ! ' 

"  She  was  then  so  good  as  to  give  me  the  details  of 
several  similar  cases,  without  mentioning  names.  I 
suppose  this  was  done  as  much  for  the  sake  of  afford- 
ing me  that  species  of  comfort  derivable  from  com- 
panionship in  misery,  as  to  convince  me  that  we  never 
take  the  interests  of  justice  so  much  to  heart  as  when 
they  concern  ourselves." 

"  Now  forget  all  that  is  past,"  says  the  good  Moth- 
er, at  the  end  of  this  long  talk,  "  and  speak  and  write 
to  your  friends  as  if  nothing  had  occurred,  merely 
telling  them  that  you  confirm  your  resignation  (of 
the  property)  in  their  favor.  And  you  must  do  this  in 
all  sincerity^  avoiding  a  spirit  of  pride,  as  if  you  had 
been  more  generous  than  they,  and  avoiding,  also,  a 
wish  to  coax  them  into  obliging  you.  If  our  actions 
do  not  arise  from  genuine  love  they  are  worthless." 

Pascal,  it  seems,  was  at  this  time  absent  from  the 
city  for  a  few  days,  but  when  he  came  home  and 
found  Jacqueline's  letters  awaiting  him,  he  at  once 
presented  himself  again  in  the  convent  parlor.  Port 
Royal's  nobility  had  challenged  his,  and  he  was  not 
found   wanting !      He   undertook   "  a   Pinstant"   to 


Fresh    Trials.  215 

manage  the  whole  affair,  and  without  waiting  to  free 
his  sister's  portion  from  its  entanglement  with  the 
rest  of  the  estate,  to  make  a  gift  in  his  own  name  to 
the  convent,  "  taking  upon  himself  all  risks  and 
charges."  Thus. suddenly  and  simply  was  the  diffi- 
culty removed. 

As  to  Pascal's  first  position  in  the  matter,  Reuch- 
lin  explains  it  thus:  "In  the  case  of  twins  it  is  fre- 
quently observable  that  the  death  of  one  is  soon  fol- 
lowed by  that  of  the  other.  Blaise  Pascal  and  Jac- 
queline Pascal  were  twins  in  soul,  and  when  the 
former  strove  to  prevent  his  sister's  complete  identifi- 
cation with  Port  Royal,  he  was  in  reality  struggling 
for  the  right  of  his  own  independence — fighting  for 
his  own  life.  Another  pretext  for  delay  presented 
itself  in  this  difficulty  about  the  property,  and  he 
eagerly  seized  it."  But  as  soon  as  he  saw  that  it  was 
useless,  that  Jacqueline's  determination  remained  un- 
shaken in  spite  of  the  worst  he  could  do,  he  gave  up 
without  another  word.  Gilberte,  for  her  part,  seems 
to  have  acted  only  out  of  sympathy  for  her  brother, 
and  from  the  natural  "secular"  view  of  the  matter. 
But  she  yields  in  the  end  as  gratefully  as  does  her 
brother. 

And  so,  at  last,  the  eve  of  the  solemn  day  had 
actually  com.e — the  day  so  long  delayed,  so  ardently 
desired  !  Is  Jacqueline  as  happy  as  she  expected  to 
be?     A  few  days   before,  she  wrote 'to   her  sister-. 


2i6  Sister  and  Saint. 

"  There  is  nothing  but  sorrow  everywhere  "  (referring 
to  the  war),  "yet  I  am  full  of  joy,  for  I  am  to  take  the 
veil  on  the  glorious  feast  of  Trinity.  After  so  much 
opposition,  it  seems  like  a  dream  to  find  myself  so 
near  it.  I  shall  fear  that  it  is  only  an  illusion  till  the 
ceremony  is  really  over.  But  I  will  not  waste  time 
in  expatiating  on  my  happiness,  for  you  can  not 
doubt  it."  Did  ever  expectant  bride  write  a  happier 
letter  on  the  eve  of  her  wedding-day? 

The  nuns  went  rather  early  to  their  cells  that  May 
evening,  for  to-morrow  was  to  be  a  great  day  for  them. 
Perhaps  Jacqueline  Pascal  lingered,  like  St.  Agnes,  a 
little  while  at  her  window  looking  at  the  solemn  stars. 

The  airs  from  the  garden  were  soft  and  sweet,  and 
the  pink  horsechestnut  blossoms  were  dropping  now 
and  then  through  the  stillness,  as  they  drop  now  on 
May  evenings  in  the  gardens  of  Paris.  That  "  noble 
house  "  in  the  Faubourg  St.  Jacques,  was  very  full 
that  night,  for  many  of  the  sisters  had  come  in  from 
Port  Royal  dcs  CJLajnps  to  see  the  ceremony.  The 
next  day's  dinner  had  been  prepared  overnight,  so 
that  lay-sisters  and  all  might  have  an  opportunity  to 
be  present  at  the  services. 

But  scarcely  had  quiet  settled  down  on  the  house 
when  voices  and  quick  steps  were  heard  about  the 
gates,  and  the  frightened  women  were  soon  out  of 
their  beds.  It  was  war-time,  and  they  were  living  in 
constant  expectation  of  danger.     They  found,  how- 


Fresh    Trials.  217 


ever,  that  it  was  not  a  troop  of  soldiers  who  had 
taken  possession  of  the  house.  It  was  only  a  band  of 
nuns  who  had  been  driven  out  of  their  convent  at 
Etampes  and  h^d  walked  all  the  way  to  Paris. 

"  These  poor  sisters  reached  the  Faubourg  St.  Jac- 
ques about  nine  o'clock,"  says  the  story.  "  Some  of 
them  had  friends  in  the  city,  but  knew  not  where  to 
find  them  ;  others  were  friendless.  It  was  quite  dark, 
they  had  no  guide,  no  guard,  and  did  not  know  what 
to  do.  As  they  passed  the  gates  of  Port  Royal  one 
of  them  recognized  the  convent.  She  bade  her  com- 
panions be  of  good  cheer.  Madame  de  Port  Royal" 
■ — Madame  dii  cceiir  Royal,  as  she  was  often  called — 
"would  take  them  in." 

They  were  not  disappointed.  It  was  against  the 
rules  for  an  abbess  to  receive  members  of  another 
community  without  the  permission  of  the  archbishop. 
"  But  Angelique  said,  '  Charity  is  above  law,'  and 
opened  her  gates."  And  now  was  made  evident  the 
good  Providence  which  had  led  them  to  cook  to-mor- 
row's dinner  overnight !  These  sisters  must  be  fed 
first  of  all.  Then  came  the  more  difficult  task  of 
finding  beds  for  them.  "  We  began  to  gather  up  all 
that  we  could,"  says  one  of  the  nuns.  "  There  was 
nothing  to  be  met  in  the  passages  and  on  the  stairs 
but  sisters  dragging  their  beds,  pillows,  coverlets, 
mattresses,  and  doing  it  all  with  the  heartiest  good- 
will." 

10 


2 1 8  Sister  and  SamL 

The  next  day,  with  all  these  unexpected  guests  and 
with  the  two  communities  of  Port  Royal  to  witness 
her  profession,  Jacqueline  Pascal  took  the  veil  as 
novice.  We  do  not  know  whether  "iier  brother  and 
sister  were  present.  No  details  of  the  ceremony  have 
been  preserved.  It  was  probably  conducted  according 
to  the  "Constitutions"  of  the  convent,  with  great 
simplicity.  Few  guests  from  ''  the  world  "  were  per- 
mitted; all  attempts  to  excite  public  interest  by  dis- 
play were  prohibited.  The  dress  of  the  candidate 
must  be  plain  and  inexpensive.  Pearls  and  other 
ornaments  were  forbidden  ;  and  instead  of  the  usual 
entire  severance  of  the  hair,  the  abbess  only  cut  off  a 
little  from  the  ends.  "  If  the  candidate  should  after- 
ward repent  of  her  consecration  she  was  not  to  be 
deterred  from  re-entering  society  by  the  loss  of  that 
feminine  adornment." 


^-<^TTm^ 


A   BUNDLE   OF   LETTERS   WHICH 
TELL  THEIR  OWN   STORY. 


^.'-i--=?> 


T^^^^ 


XV. 

\   BUNDLE    OF   LETTERS   WHICH    TELL   THEIR    OWN 
STORY. 

O  M.  Perier",  during  an  alarming  illness  of  his 

wife : 

"  Jufy  31,  1653. 

"My  dear  Sister  and  Brother: — I  write  to 
you  both,  if  God  permit  this. letter  to  find  you  both 
in  a  state  to  read  it.  which,  after  your  note  of  the 
24th,  I  scarcely  dare  to  hope.  You  can  imagine  the 
state  of  my  own  feelings  ;  I  do  not  pretend  to  express 
them.  But  I  think  it  my  duty  in  this  extremity  to 
render  all  the  assistance  I  can,  both  to  my  sister  and 
yourself.  I  pray  for  you  as  often  as  possible,  and  our 
mothers  have  frequently  reminded  the  sisterhood  to 

commend  her  case  to  God We  can  not  have  a 

better  opportunity  of  testing  whether  we  possess  real 
faith * 

■"  If  it  please  Him  to  grant  my  sister  the  happiness  of 

seeing  His  face  in  preference  to  ourselves,  why  should 

(221) 


222  Sister  and  Saint. 

we  oppose  her  blessedness?  I  see  no  blessedness  to 
be  found  in  this  world  except  in  giving  up  all  things 
for  God ;  but  even  this  is  not  to  be  compared  with 
the  full  possession  of  Him  and  the  certainty  of  never 

losing  that  felicity 

"  God  knows  that  I  love  my  sister  more  than  I  did 
when  we  were  both  in  the  world,  and  yet  it  seemed 
to  me  then  that  nothing  could  increase  my  affection  ; 
but  whereas  at  that  time  my  chief  wishes  and  anxieties 
were  for  her  life  (which  always  has  been,  and  still  is, 
dearer  to  me  than  my  own),  they  now  relate  to  her 
eternal  life.  Therefore,  violent  as  my  grief  is,  and 
though  I  am  continually  in  dread  of  hearing  the  fatal 
news,  trembling  so  that  I  can  scarcely  stand  if  any  one 
looks  as  if  he  iv ere  going  to  speak  to  me,  yet,  when  I 
take  into  account  the  misery  and  dangers  of  this  pres- 
ent life,  especially  for  a  person  immersed  in  worldly 
occupations,  I  can  not  but  accuse  myself  of  selfishly 
desiring  my  own  benefit  rather  than  hers.  And  so 
my  most  earnest  prayers  to  God  are  that  the  infant 
may  be  an  heir  of  grace  and  that  the  mother's  illness 

may  be  sanctified Tell  her  to  remember  the 

beautiful  saying  of  M.  de  St.  Cyran,  that  '  the  sick 
should  look  upon  their  bed  as  an  altar  whereon  they 
continually  offer  up  the  sacrifice  of  their  life  for  God 
to  t^ke  at  His  pleasure  ' ;  and  this  other :  '  The  pains 
and  various  inconveniences  of  illness  are  sounds  that 
serve  to  warn  the  virgins  of  the  Bridegroom's  ap- 


A  Bundle  of  Letters.  223 

proach.'     Let  her  hope  to  go  in  with  Him  to  that 
blessed  marriage. 

"  SCEUR  DE  SaINTE  EUPHEMIE, 

"  {Religiciise  Indigne)!' 

Under  the  same  date  JacqueHne  urges  her  brother- 
in-law,  in  case  of  her  sister's  recovery,  to  testify  his 
gratitude  by  leaving  his  wife  and  family  and  becopiing 
a  recluse.  Happily,  he  did  not  follow  this  advice, 
but  we  are  told  that,  after  this  time,  he  wore  a  girdle 
lined  with  iron  points,  though  his  humility  kept  this 
fact  a  secret  till  after  his  death.  He  used  also  to 
have  a  plank  in  his  bed,  and  made  his  bed  himself  in 
order  to  prevent  discovery. 

To  Madame  Perier,  bearing  joyful  tidings : 

"Dec.  8,  1654. 

"  It  is  not  right  that  you  should  longer  be  ignorant 
of  what  God  has  wrought  in  the  heart  of  one  so  dear 
to  us ;  but  I  wish  you  to  learn  it  from  himself,  in 
order  that  your  every  doubt  may  be  done  away.  All 
that  I  now  have  time  to  tell  you  is  that  God  has  gra- 
ciously given  him  a  great  wish  to  be  entirely  devoted 
to  his  service,  though  in  what  mode  of  life  is  not  yet 
determined.  For  more  than  a  year  he  has  felt  a 
thorough  contempt  for  the  world,  and  an  almost  in- 
supportable disgust  for  its  votaries ;  and  yet,  though 
his  excitable  temperament  would  naturally  lead  him 


2  24  Sister  and  Saint. 

to  extremes,  he  behaves  with  a  moderation  that 
encourages  me  to  hope  for  good.  He  has  put  him- 
self entirely  under  P^re  Singlin's  direction. 

''  Thoug-h  his  health  is  worse  than  it  has  been  for  a 
long  time,  it  does  not  in  the  least  affect  his  resolu- 
tion, which  shows  that  the  reasons  he  formerly  urged 
were  only  a  pretense. 

"  I  perceive  in  him  a  humility  and  submission, 
even  toward  myself,  which  astonishes  me.  I  have 
now  no  more  to  add,  except  that  it  is  evident  another 
spirit  than  his  own  is  at  work  within  him.  Farewell ; 
let  all  this  be  kept  secret,  even  from  him. 
"  I  am  yours  entirely, 

"  Sister  Euphiemie." 

To  Madame  Perier,  giving  further  particulars  of 
the  good  work : 

"Port  Royal,  January  2^,  1655. 

"  My  very  dear  Sister  : — I  wonder  if  your  im- 
patience to  receive  intelligence  has  been  greater  than 
mine  to  communicate  it ;  yet,  as  I  had  no  time  to 
waste,  I  was  afraid  to  write  too  soon,  lest  I  might 
have  to  unsay  what  I  had  prematurely  said.  But 
now  things  are  at  a  po'nt  where  you  ought  to  know 
of  them,  let  the  resull  be,  by  God's  good  pleasure, 
what  it  may. 

"  It  would  be  doing  you  injustice  not  to  relate  the 
whole  story  from  the  beginning. 


A  Bn7idle  of  Letters.  225 


"  He  came  to  see  me  toward  tRe  close  of  last  Sep- 
tember, and  during  the  visit,  opened  his  heart  to  me 
in  such  a  way  that  I  felt  a  deep  pity  for  him.  He 
acknowledged  that  in  the  midst  of  his  occupations, 
which  were  numerous  and  of  a  nature  to  excite  in 
him  a  love  for  the  world,  he  still  often  felt  a  desire  to 
leave  it  altogether.  That,  by  reason  of  his  aversion 
for  the  follies  and  amusements  of  society,  and  by 
reason  of  the  constant  reproaches  of  conscience,  he 
found  himself  more  detached  from  the  world  than  ho 
had  ever  been  before  ;  but  that,  on  the  other  hand, 
God'seemed  to  have  foesaken  him,  and  he  experience  i 
no  longings  after  Him 

"  This  confession  gave  me  great  surprise  and  de 
light,  and  from  that  time  I  began  to  hope  for  him  as 
I  had  not  done  before.  If  I  were  to  recount  all  his 
other  visits  in  detail,  it  would  fill  a  volume,  for  they 
were  afterward  so  frequent  and  so  long  that  I  seemed 
to  myself  to  have  no  other  work  to  do  than  to  follow 
him  and  watch  his  progress.  I  did  not  attempt  to 
hurry  him  in  the  least,  but  I  saw  him  growing  in 
such  a  way  that  I  scarcely  knew  him  for  the  same 
person.  You  will  see  it  also,  if  God  carries  on  the 
work,  and  particularly  in  his  humility,  submission, 
self-distrust,  even  to  the  point  of  scorn  of  self  and 
desire  to  become  as  nothing  in  the  esteem  and  mem- 
ory of  man.  This  is  what  he  is- now;  only  God 
knows  what  he  will  become. 


2  26  Sister  and  Saint. 

"  There  were  many  visits  and  much  conflict  on  the 
subject  of  choosing  a  spiritual  guide.  He  saw  the 
necessity  of  having  one ;  but,  although  the  person 
best  suited  to  him  was  already  found  and  he  could 
not  bear  to  think  of  any  one  else,  yet  his  self-distrust 
made  him  afraid  of  being  guided  by  partiality.  / 
saw  clearly  enough  that  this  hesitation  only  arose 
from  the  independence  yet  remaining  in  his  soul,  and 
catching  at  any  excuse  for  avoiding  the  complete  sub- 
jection to  which  he  was  tending.  But  I  would  not 
influence  him.  I  merely  said  that  I  thought  it  was 
our  duty  to  select  the  best  physicians  we  could  find, 

both  for  the  soul  and  for  the  body At  length 

his  mifid  was  made  up.  But  our  task  was  not  over 
yet,-  for  M.  Singlin  hesitated  to  undertake  the  charge, 
chiefly  on  account  of  a  long-continued  infirmity  which 
prevents  his  speaking  without  great  pain. 

"  Meanwhile  many  things  occurred,  too  long  and 
unimportant  to  be  repeated  here  ;  the  principal  event 
being  that  our  young  convert  came  of  his  own  accord 
to  the  conclusion  that  a  temporary  withdrawal  from 
home  would  be  serviceable  to  him.  M.  Singlin  was 
then  at  Port  Royal  des  Cliavips  for  the  benefit  of  his 
health ;  and  therefore  Blaise  (although  he  was  ter- 
ribly afraid  of  having  it  known  that  he  held  com- 
munication with  the  convent)' resolved  to  go  thither 
under  pretext  that  business  called  him  into  the  coun- 
try.    By  changing  his  name,  leaving  his  r^.rvants  in 


A  Bundle  of  Letters,  227 

some  neighboring  village,  and  proceeding  on  foot  to 
M.  Singlin,  he  hoped  that  no  one  would  recognize 
him  or  discover  his  object,  and  that,  in  this  way,  he 
might  effect  a  temporary  retreat. 

"  I  advised  him  not  to  take  such  a  step  without 
consulting  M.  Singlin  ;  and  M.  Singlin,  on  his  part, 
forbade  it  altogether.  M.  Singlin  wrote  him  a  beau- 
tiful letter,  and  in  it  he  constituted  7ne  as  my  brother's 

directress  until  God  made  his  own  duty  plain 

When  M.  Singlin  at  length  returned,  I  entreated  him 
to  release  me  from  my  dignity,  and  said  so  much  that 
I  obtained  my  desire.  They  then  both  thought  it 
would  be  best  for  Blaise  to  make  a  trip  into  the  coun- 
try for  the  sake  of  being  more  alone  than  he  could 
be  in  town.  His  particular  friend  (the  Due  de 
Roannez)  had  returned,  and  took  up  nearly  all  his 
time. 

He,  accordingly,  made  the  Duke  his  confidant 
(receiving  his  consent,  which  was  not  given  without 

tears),  and  set  out  the  day  after  Epiphany 

He  has  procured  a  room,  or  rather  a  cell,  among  the 
recluses  of  Port  Royal,  and  thence  he  writes  me  that 
he  finds  himself  extremely  happy,  being  lodged  and 
treated  like  a  prince — a  prince  of  St.  Bernard's 
stamp,  dwelling  in  a  lonely  spot,  where  the  pro- 
fession of  poverty  is  carried  out  as  far  as  discretion 
will  allow. 

"  He  is  present  at  every  service  from   Prime   to 


2  28  S/s/cr  and  Samt. 


Complines,  and  docs  not  find  the  least  inconvenience 
in  rising  at  five  o'clock. 

"  It  seems  to  Ue  God's  will,  also,  that  he  shall  fast 
as  well  as  watch,  though,  in  doing  so,  he  must  defy 
all  medical  rules  which  forbid  him  to  do  either.  But 
he  finds  that  his  supper  begins  to  give  him  pain  in 
the  chest,  and  I  think  he  will  omit  it. 

"  He  will  not  miss  his  directress,  for  M.  Singlin  has 
provided  him  with  a  confessor,  M.  de  Saci,  with 
whom  he  was  not  before  acquainted,  a  man  who  is 
beyond  praise,  and  who  has  completely  charmed  him 
already." 

(M.  de  Saci  was  one  of  Madame  le  Maitre's  sons, 
an  elegant  writer,  translator  of  the  Bible,  and  one  of 
the  brightest  lights  of  Port  Royal). 

*'  He  told  only  two  persons  where  he  was  going 
when  he  set  out.  However,  it  was  suspected.  Some 
say  he  has  turned  monk  ;  others  hermit ;  others, 
again,  that  he  is  at  Port  Royal ;  and  he  knows  all 
this,  but  does  not  care  for  it 

"  I  have  not  been  able  to  finish  this  letter  till  to- 
day, Feb.  8. 

"  Business  just  now  detains  Blaise  at  home,  but,  as 

soon  as  he  can,  he  will  go  back  to  his  solitude 

He  is  anxious  to  do  something  for  our  little  cousin, 
the  daughter  of  Pascal  the  overseer ;  and  as  this  con- 
vent is  very  charitable,  we  hoped  to  get  her  received 
here   as   a   boarder.      But    I    doubt   whether   either 


A  Btcndle  of  Letters.  229 


mother  or  child  would  be  willing.  Write  me  about 
it,  please,  as  soon  as  you  can  and  say  how  wc  had 
better  manage  it.  I  am  very  antxious  she  should 
come,  for  I  look  upon  her  as  a  sister  and  can  not  think 
of  her  situation,  either  bodily  or  spiritually,  without 
a  shudder.  Besides,  she  is  my  father's  niece,  and  I 
can  understand  how  he  would  have  felt  for  her  from 
my  own  feelings  toward  your  children. 

"  Sister  Euphemie." 

To  M.   Pascal  during  his  retreat  at  Les  Granges 

(Port  Royal  des  Champs^ : 

"  January   19,  1655. 

"  My  very  dear  Brother  : — It  gives  me  as  much 
delight  to  find  you  cheerful  in  solitude  as  it  used  to 
give  me  pain,  when  I  saw  you  immersed  in  the  gay- 
eties  of  the  world.  I  hardly  know,  however,  how  M. 
de  Saci  gets  along  with  a  penitent  so  full  of  happi- 
ness. Instead  of  expiating  worldly  pleasures  by  un- 
ceasing tears,  you  are  only  relinquishing  them  for 
more  reasonable  joys  and  a  more  allowable  play  of 
fancy. 

"  For  my  part,  I  think  your  penance  very  moderate 
indeed,  and  there  are  few  people  who  would  not  envy 
you  it ! " 

A  few  more  playful,  but  rather  obscure  allusions 
follow :  "  And  now,"  says  the  writer,  "  I_  hereby  put 
an  end  to  the  willful  nonsense  of  this  letter.     Your 


230  Sister  and  Saint. 

eager  desire  to  renounce  every  semblance  of  worldly 

distinction  is  very  praiseworthy The  same  must 

be  said  of  your  Wooden  spoon  and  earthen  platter 
about  which  you  wrote  me.  These  are  the  gold  and 
precious  stones  of  Christianity.  None  but  princes 
should  have  them  on  their  tables.  We  must  be  truly 
poor  in  spirit  if  we  would  deserve  such  an  honor, 
which,  according  to  the  Marquis  de  Renti,' should  be 
denied  to  common  people.  My  only  comfort  is  that, 
this  kind  of  kingship  not  being  hereditary,  it  may  be 

acquired 

"  I  was  before  you  in  the  discovery  that  health  de- 
pends more  on  Jesus  Christ  than  on  the  maxims  of 
Hippocrates.  Spiritual  rcgivten  often  cures  bodiQ'  ail- 
ments. Unless,  indeed,  God  sees  fit  to  strengthen  us 
by  means  of  sickness.  Certainly  it  is  a  great  privi- 
lege to  have  sufificient  strength  of  body  to  do  what 
is  enjoined  for  the  cure  of  our  souls ;  but  it  is  none 
the  less  a  privilege  to  take  chastisement  from  Him. 
In  either  case  we  are  well,  if  we  are  in  Him.  We 
are  not  told,  '  if  any  man  will  come  after  Me  let  him 
perform  works  requiring  great  strength,'  but,  '  let  him 
deny  himself.'  And  sometimes  a  sick  jj^rson  may  do 
this  better  than  one  in  health." 

To  the  same  ; — a  fragment : 

"December  i,  1655. 

"  I  have  been  congratulated  on  the  great  fervor  of 

devotion  which  has  lifted  you  so  far  above  all  ordi- 


A  Bundle  of  Letters.  231 


nary  customs,  that  you  consider  a  broom  a  superflu- 
ous piece  of  furniture I  think  that,  for  some 

months  at  least,  you  should  try  being  as  clean  as  you 
now  are  dirty,  in  order  that  you  may  show  that  you 
can  succeed  in  humble  and  vigilant  care  of  the  body 
(which  is  your  servant),  as  well  as  you  have  succeed- 
ed in  humble  lugligence  of  it.  After  that,  if  you 
again  find  it  glorious  and  edifying  to  others  to  be 
dirty,  you  can  do  so  ;  especially  if  it  be  a  means  of 
holiness,  which  I  very  much  doubt.  St.  Bernard  did 
not  think  it  was." 

To  Madame  Perier  in  answer  to  inquiries  as  to 
Jacqueline's  promotion  in  the  convent : 

"  June  23,  1655. 

"  I  had  thought  of  answering  this  part  of  your  let- 
ter in  the  same  style  in  which  you  wrote,  buf  I  can 
not  do  it.  All  my  gayety  leaves  me  when  I  approach 
the  topic.  And  I  therefore  entreat  you  to  believe 
every  word  of  what  I  shall  now  tell  you,  for  I  am 
perfectly  serious. 

"  I  dare  say  my  employment  here  has  been  repre- 
sented to  you  as  much  greater  than  it  in  fact  is. 
After  all,  it  is  a  mere  nothing,  and  I  do  not  suppose 
that  any  one  but  myself  would  consider  it  of  conse- 
quence. 

"  But  it  is  quite  a  responsibility  for  me,  who  would 
much  rather  keep  in  the  background,  and  d.\Vi  fit  for 


232  Sister  and  Saint. 

nothing  but  to  bustle  about  in  a  tiny  cell,  or  to  sweep 
the  house ;  for  this  last  is  an  accomplishment  I  have 
become  quite  expert  in,  as  well  as  in  washing  dishes 
and  spinning.  You  see  I  have  learned  to  be  very- 
handy. 

''  The  employment  assigned  me,  then,  is  to  remain 
with  the  novices  and  keep  an  eye  on  the  newly- 
arrived  candidates,  in  order  to  prevent  such  little 
mistakes  as  they  are  likely  to  make  at  first.  I  also 
look  after  their 'little  external  wants,  and  see  that 
they  are  provided  with  shoes,  stockings,  pins,  thread, 

etc And  that  you  may  have  no  more  cause  to 

complain  of  my  reserve,  I  will  tell  you  that  it  is  also 
my  duty  to  advise  them  in  regard  to  their  behavior. 

Now,  you  know  just  what  I  have,  to  do My 

sister  Madeleine  is  always  on  the  spot  to  correct  me 

if  I  do  wrong But  for  all  that,  I  can  not  help 

trembling  when  I  think  that  I  hold  the  destiny,, so  to 
speak,  of  five  or  six  girls  in  my  hands,  and  that  they 
are  in  a  measure  dependent  on  one  so  imperfect 

"  I  must  acknowledge  that,  when  you  were  here,  I 
often  felt  that  it  was  scarcely  right  to  keep  this  a 
secret  from  you,  to  whom  my  heart  has  always  been 
so  open,  especially  when  you  frequently  asked  me 
what  it  was  that  kept  me  so  busy.  I  had  even  made 
a  memorandum  to  ask  our  Mother  Agnes  whether 
this  confidence  were  not  due  you,  but  God  permitted 
me  always  to  forget  it,  and,  since  you  left,  it  has 


A  Bundle  of  Letters.  233 

never  occurred  to  me.  Neither  have  I  mentioned  it 
to  my  brother,  and  if  he  knows  it,  some  one  else  has 
told  him. 

"  There  is  a  great  advantage  in  having  to  teach 
others  the  ways  of  God  ;  .  .  .  .  but  it  is  very  difficult 
to  speak  of  God  in  a  godly  manner,  and  there  is  great 
danger  of  feeding  others  from  our  own  penury  instead 
of  from  His  abundance.  Pray  for  me  that  my  two 
mites  may  be  as  acceptable  to  Him  as  the  large  alms 
of  the  wealthier.  Farewell,  dear  sister.  Yours  ever 
in  the  Lord, 

"Sister  Euphemie, 

'■^  An  unworthy  nun^ 

To  the  same,  in  answer  to  inquiries  as  to  the  best 
method  of  educating  her  children  : 

"Port  Roy ki.,  August  15,  1655. 

"My  very  dear  Sister: — I  take  a  large  sheet 
of  paper,  because  it  is  my  resolution,  by  God's  help, 
to  send  you  a  long  letter.  When  I  first  read  the  one 
you  forwarded  by  my  brother  I  did  not  intend  to 
answer  it  at  all.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  was  very  far 
from  having  the  requisite  ability  for  such  a  task,  and, 
besides  that,  I  ought  not  to  undertake  it.  For  there 
is  nothing,  in  my  opinion,  so  provoking  as  to  see  a 
little  novice,  whose  eyes  have  scarcely  begun  to  dis- 
cern the  true  light,  taking  it  upon  herself  to  enlighten 


Sister  and  Saint. 


others,  and  to  become  their  torch-bearer.  It  is  really 
unendurable  ! 

"  But  since,  on  account  of  the  humility  of  our 
mothers  and  the  illness  of  Pere  Singlin,  I  am  totally 
unable  elsewhere  to  procure  the  aid  you  are  seeking, 
I  do  not  know  that  there  is  any  harm  in  saying  to  you 
what  I  have  said  to  myself,  for  I  feel  as  if  you  and  I 
had  but  one  heart  and  one  soul  in  Christ  Jesus. 

"When  I  had  written  thus  far,  it  occurred  to  me 
that  M.  de  Rebours  (one  of  the  confessors)  might, 
perhaps,  be  able  to  give  some  advice.  I  broke  off, 
therefore,  in  order  to  consult  him,  and  now  write 
what  he  says :  *  *  *  * 

"  To  M.  Pascal,  making  inquiries  in  regard  to  his 
new  method  of  teaching  children  to  read  : 

"'  October  26,  1655. 

"  *  Obedience  and  chanty  lead  me  to  break  silence 
before  you  do,  my  very  dear  brother,  and  when  I 
least  expected  it ;  I  tell  you  this,  lest  you  should  be 
scandalized  at  my  writing.'  (She  alludes,  probably, 
to  some  mutual  vow  of  silence  for  a  certain  time). 

"  'Our  mothers  have  commanded  me  to  ask  all  the 
particulars  of  your  method  of  learning  to  read  with- 
out learning  the  names  of  the  letters.  I  can  see  very 
well  how  a  child  can  be  taught  to  pronounce  some 
words  in  that  way,  but  how  do  you  manage  with 
silent  consonants  following  a  vowel? — for  instance, 


A  Btmdle  of  Letters.  235 

such  a  word  as  ^«  ?  ....  I  see  difficulties  in  the  sys- 
tem, but  then,  I  am  sure,  you  have  also  foreseen  them 
and  provided  for  them. 

" '  So  much  for  obedience ;  now  for  the  charity.' 
(She  then  begs  a  favor  of  him  in  behalf  of  a  poor 
young  girl  of  their  acquaintance.)  '  I  will  not  apolo- 
gize for  giving  you  the  trouble.  Charity  is  its  own 
recompense. 

"'Did  you  think  of  me  on  the  loth?  That  is  the 
day  of  my  baptism,  you  know.  Remember  me  also 
to-day.  The  26th  of  every  month  is  dear  to  me  since 
God  gave  me  grace  on  that  day  to  cast  off  forever  the 
habiliments  of  the  world.  May  you  and  all  who  be- 
long to  you  be  ever  the  Lord's.  I  belong  to  you  not 
less  by  grace  than  by  nature.  Properly,  indeed,  I 
consider  myself  your  daughter ;  I  shall  never  forget  it.' 
"Sister  Euphemie, 

"y^;^  imworthy  muiy 

The  system  of  teaching  here  spoken  of  was  intro- 
duced by  Pascal  into  the  Port  Royal  schools,  and 
through  their  text-books*  adopted  afterward  through- 
out France.  It  is  now  used  in  many  English  schools, 
and  has  been  introduced  somewhat  in  the  United 
States.  Cousin  '  says :  "  A  method  of  orthography 
certainly  adds  little  to  the  glory  of  the  great  mathe- 
matician, the  great  scientist,  and  the  great  rhetorician, 
yet  it  serves  to  bring  into  relief  that  exactness  and 


236 


Sister  and  Saint. 


clearness — the  special  attribute  of  Pascal's  genius — 
which  he  carried  into  the  smallest  as  well  as  into  the 
greatest  things." 

Pascal's  system  of  logic,  set  forth  in  his  little 
treatise,  "  De  I'art  de  Persuader,"  was  about  this  time 
also  adopted  at  Port  Royal. 


I 


TEACHING  THE  CONVENT  SCHOOL. 


XVI. 


TEACHING  THE   CONVENT   SCHOOL. 


THE  letters  we  have  just  read  tell  us  better 
than  any  other  words  could  do,  the  story  of 
Jacqueline  Pascal's  life  between  1652  and 
1655.  They  show  us  the  increasing  honor  in  which 
she  is  held  by  that  household  of  noble  women  among 
whom  she  has  found  her  home.  They  show  the  great 
confidence  reposed  in  her  by  her  superiors,  evidenced 
by  her  appointment  as  Sub-Mistress  of  the  Novices 
before  she  had  herself  passed  her  novitiate.  And 
still  stronger  proof  of  confidence  and  high  esteem  is 
the  fact  that  careful,  conscientious  Abbe  Singlin 
placed  in  her  hands  the  infinitely  momentous  and 
delicate  task  of  guiding  her  brother's  newly-stirred 
conscience. 

They  very  touchingly  show  that  brother's  trust  in 
her  as  he  makes  visit  after  visit  and  unburdens  his 
troubled  heart  before  her;  anJ  they  show  her  elder 
sister's  exaggerated  reverence  when  she  asks  of  the 

(239) 


240  Sister  and  Saint. 

inexperienced  novice  how  she  shall  best  bring  up  her 
family. 

But,  above  all,  these  letters  give  us  a  hint  of  the 
inner  life — a  glimpse  at  that  "secret  greenness"  which 
"only  One"  can  fully  see. 

We  perceive  a  rapid  growth  of  character.  We  see 
a  great  increase  of  sweetness — of  love  and  of  joy — in 
her  heart.  The  beauty  of  holiness  is  beginning  to  be 
apparent.  Instead  of  the  chilling  virtues  of  those 
first  years  of  devotion  to  God  there  is  a  pleasant 
warmth  and  light.  She  is  not  afraid  now  to  tell  her 
brother  and  sister  how  much  she  loves  them.  "  It 
seems  to  me  we  are  but  one  heart  and  one  soul  in 
Jesus  Christ,"  she  writes  to  Gilberte.  "  Did  you 
think  of  me  on  the  loth?"  she  asks  Blaise,  showing 
how  completely  the  old  freedom  and  sympathy  is 
established  between  them  and  how  sweet  it  is  to  her. 

In  every  way,  indeed,  there  4S  an  increasing  natu- 
ralness and  healthfulness  in  her  religion,  as  there 
must  be  in  all  spiritual  life,  the  nearer  it  approaches 
to  Him  who  is  the  Life. 

Not  that  faults  are  wanting.  As  long  as  we  know 
Jacqueline  Pascal  we  shall  see  those,  yet  more  and 
more,  from  this  time,  they  seem  to  be  the  faults  of 
her  century,  her  education,  her  Church,  rather  than 
faults  of  character. 

Undoubtedly,  Jacqueline's  great  joy  in  her  broth- 
er's conversion  hastened  her  spiritual  grov.'th.     Joy  is 


Teaching  the  Cotivent  School,         241 

good  for  souls.  Whatev^er  may  be  said  and  may  be 
true  of  the  blessed  effects  of  sorrow,  those  who  have 
had  great  sorrows  and  great  joys  know  that  joy  is  the 
natural  atmosphere  of  the  soul.  He  who  has  swung 
open  the  doors  of  heaven  to  His  children  knows  this 
well. 

And  so,  when  the  desire  of  this  sweet  woman's 
heart  is  granted,  when  her  cup  runs  over — we  see  her 
coming  back  to  the  naturalness  and  freedom  of  her 
early  days.  Her  heart  comes  again  as  the  heart  of  a 
little  child.  She  does  from  joyful  enthusiasm,  not 
from  forcing  duty,  what  her  hand  finds  to  do. 

It  was  a  gre^at  year  for  the  Port  Royalists — this 
year  of  Pascal's  definite  identification  with  them  and 
farewell  to  the  world.  In  their  histories  it  forms  a 
distinct  era,  and  other  events  are  dated  from  it,  as 
one  dates  from  the  accession  of  a  sovereign. 

In  the  family  annals  the  change  is  known  as  his 
"  second  conversion."  Many  striking  and  minute  ac- 
counts of  it  are  given.  We  will  content  ourselves 
with  Jacqueline's  story  as  we  have  read  it  in  that  long 
letter  to  their  sister.  It  can  not  fail  to  be  a  faithful 
picture,  though  less  sharp  in  its  outlines  than  most 
of  the  Jansenist  writers  have  made  it. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that,  during  those  years 
when  mental  activity  was  denied  him,  Blaise  Pascal 
made  a  thorough  trial  of  material  pleasures,  yet  the 

Btraitest  of  the  Jansenists — those  who  most  bitterly 
II 


242  Sister  and  Saint. 

deplore  those  years  of  defection — are  careful  to 
say  that  no  hint  of  vice  ever  attached  to  his  hfe. 
"  His  feet,  indeed,  trod  the  mire,"  says  one,  "but  his 
divine  wings  remained  forever  unsoiled." 

During  these  years,  a  young  nobleman — the  Due 
de  Roannez  —  was  Pascal's  most  intimate  friend. 
There  is  a  suspicion  of  an  attachment  on  Pascal's 
part  for  the  duke's  sister,  a  ^irl  of  sixteen — an  un- 
spoken love,  however,  if  it  existed  at  all,  and  hope- 
less, probably,  in  the  lover's  mind,  on  account  of  the 
great  difference  in  rank  and  fortune. 

A  treatise  on  "  Love,"  probably  written  about  this 
time,  goes  toward  establishing  the  theor}^  But  stu- 
dents of  Pascal's  life  differ  in  their  opinions,  and  it  is 
one  of  those  questions  which  can  never  be  settled. 
Sainte-Beuve  believes  that  "  Pascal  never  passionately 
loved  any  being  but  his  Lord  and  Saviour." 

Mdlle.  de  Roannez  became  for  a  time  a  novice  at 
Port  Royal,  but  was  urged  by  her  friends  into  a  mar- 
riage which  proved  most  unfortunate.  Pascal  corre- 
sponded with  her  at  intervals  throughout  his  life. 
Her  brother,  the  duke,  became  warmly  interested  in 
the  Port  Royal  party,  and  was  one  of  the  editors  of 
the  first  edition  of  Pascal's  "  Thoughts." 

When  such  a  young  man  as  we  know  Blaise  Pascal 
to  be  "  came  and  sold  all  that  he  had  "  and  followed 
Jesus,  we  should  expect  great  ardor  and  enthu- 
siasm   from    him,    and    we    find    it   showing    itself 


Teaching  the  Convent  School.         243 

sometimes  in  painful  forms.  Even  the  nun  Jac- 
queline, as  we  see,  is  obliged  to  reprove  him  for 
his  neglect  of  the  body,  while  he  revels  in  his  new- 
found spiritual  joy.  Ill-health,  doubtless,  deepened 
the  naturally  somewhat  ascetic  tone  of  Pascal's 
mind,  and  we  see  through  all  the  remainder  of  his 
life  a  relentless  crushing  out  of  much  that  is  beautiful 
and  noble  in  human  nature. 

He  was  a  most  ingenious  self-tormentor  and  did  not 
always  remember  that  those  who  loved  him  were,  of 
necessity,  included  in  the  torment.  While  Jacqueline's 
character  is  budding  anew  into  fragrance  and  bloom, 
his  seems  to  be  growing  hard  and  dry,  like  some 
brown  lily-bulb  which  gives  no  hint  of  the  glory  and 
sweetness  within.  Both  bud  and  bulb  will  burst  into 
spotless  beauty  when  the  full  summer  comes ! 

But  at  his  harshest  and  his  driest,  Jacqueline,  his 
twin  soul,  understands  him. 

"  I  felt  astonished  and  discouraged  by  his  coldness 
and  occasional  rebuffs,"  writes  Madame  Perier,  speak- 
ing of  a  time  when  he  was  ill  at  her  house,  "  I  did 
not  then  know  that  he  thought  it  wrong  to  testify 
affection.  I  wrote  about  it  to  my  sister  and  com- 
plained that  my  brother  was  unkind  and  did  not  love 
me,  and  that  I  really  seemed  to  displease  him  even 
when  I  rendered  him  the  m.ost  affectionate  services. 
My  sister  wrote  me  that  I  was  mistaken,  that  she 
knew  the  contrary.     He  loved  me  dearly, — as  well  as 


244  Sister  and  Saint. 

I  could  desire, — and  if  opportunity  offered  for  him 
to  help  me  in  any  way,  he  would  prove  by  deeds 
what  he  thought  it  wrong  to  express  in  words.  And, 
indeed,  I  afterward  found  it  so." 

We  have  mentioned  her  brother's  conversion  as 
one  reason  for  Jacquehne's  happiness.  Another 
reason  was  her  busy  hfe.  "  I  am  never  able  to  write 
above  two  dozen  lines,"  she  says,  "often  not  more 
than  five  or  six  without  being  interrupted  by  some 
question."  For,  in  addition  to  her  other  duties,  Jac- 
queline was  soon  appointed  to  teach  in  the  convent 
school  of  Port  Royal  de  Paris.  It  was  a  large  and 
popular  boarding  and  day-school — as  popular,  proba- 
bly, as  any  young  ladies'  school  in  Paris  is  to-day.  Mrs. 
Schimmelpenninck  says,  "  It  would  be  easy  to  cite  a 
prodigious  number  of  young  ladies  educated  in  these 
schools  "  (that  at  Port  Royal  dcs  Champs  and  the  one 
in  the  city),  "  who  have  since  edified  the  world,  the 
court,  or  the  cloister  by  their  wisdom,  piety,  and  tal- 
ent. It  is  well  known  with  what  sentiments  of  admi- 
ration, gratitude,  and  reverence  they  always  spoke  of 
the  education  they  received  at  Port  Royal." 

Anne  Arnauld  had  been  for  some  years  the  Princi- 
pal of  the  Paris  school.  The  pupils  were  very  fond 
of  her,  especially  the  younger  ones.  No  wonder !  for 
we  are  told  :  "It  was  so  pleasant  to  her  to  gratify 
them  that  she  could  not  help  giving  them  sweet 
meats."     However,  being  a  nun — a  Jansenist — a  con< 


Teaching  the  Co7ivcnt  School.         245 

scientious  and  truly  loving  as  well  as  an  indulgent 
woman — "  she  always  prayed  before  giving  them  that 
the  children  might  not  like  them  very  much  !  " 

"One  day,"  the  story  goes,  "the  children  were 
naughty,  and  Sister  Anne  left  the  school-room  saying 
she  should  not  return,  for  it  grieved  her  too  much  to 
see  how  little  love  they  had  either  for  God  or  for 
their  duty."  The  children,  on  their  part,  spent  the 
morning  in  tears,  "  entreating  the  other  teachers  to 
go  and  fetch  Sister  Anne  and  tell  her  how  sorry  they 
were.  At  length  some  one  went,  and  she  relented 
immediately  and  came  to  them.  They  flocked  around 
her,  and  she  said  it  was  a  great  consolation  to  her 
that  they  were  sorry  for  their  faults,  because  God  for- 
gave those  who  repented,  and  it  was,  therefore,  quite 
right  that  she  should  forgive  them  also.  With  this, 
she  drew  a  bag  full  of  sugar-plums  from  under  her 
mantle  and  distributed  them,  saying  that  when  St. 
Louis  wept  as  he  thought  of  the  Passion  of  our  Lord 
he  found  the  tears  which  fell  upon  his  lips  were  sweet 
as  honey ;  and  she  gave  them  the  sugar-plums  in 
order  that  they  might  remember  that  when  we  weep 
for  our  faults  our  tears  are  sweet." 

Sometimes  Sister  Anne  would  bear  the  burden  of 
the  children's  faults  and  do  penance  for  them  herself, 
for  she  could  not  pass  over  the  sins,  nor  could  she 
bear  to  punish  the  children.  "  She  had  not  learned," 
says  Frances  Martin,  "  that  the  tenderness  of  their 


246  Sister  and  Saint. 

Father  in  heaven  was  as  great  as  her  own,  and 
thought  that  she  must  appease  Him  by  her  own  suf- 
ferings." 

And  now  to  this  deHghtful  Sister  Anne  and  to  one 
or  two  others  of  the  talented  Arnauld  sisters,  is  add- 
ed JacqueHne  Pascal  with  her  clear,  well-trained  in- 
tellect, her  talent,  her  noble,  womanly  character. 

Fortunate  school-girls  !  Justly  do  the  "  Memoires  " 
say  :  "  The  education  they  here  received  under  the 
sisters  of  Pascal  and  of  Arnauld,  was  far  different 
from  that  elsewhere  afforded  to  ladies." 

The  new  teacher  was  never  so  demonstrative  as 
Anne  Arnauld.  She  proved  her  love  in  a  very  differ- 
ent and  certainly  a  far  less  beautiful  manner. 

In  the  opinions  of  her  superiors  she  was  clearly  a 
successful  teacher,  for,  after  two  or  three  years'  ex- 
perience, she  was  directed  by  Father  Singlin  to  draw 
up  a  code  of  "  Reglem.ents  pour  les  Enfants,"  ac- 
cording to  the  Port  Royal  plan.  This  was  added  to 
the  "  Constitutions,"  though  with  the^caution  that  in 
other  places  it  might  not  be  easy  or  even  advisable 
to  carry  them  out  fully.  Some  children  might  not 
be  able  to  endure  so  strict  a  discipline,  neither  could 
all  teachers  enforce  it,  without  losing  the  love  and 
confidence  of  their  charge,  "  which  is  all-important." 

No  one  who  loves  children  can  read  these  rules 
without  shivering.  "Yet,"  says  Vinet,  " where  must 
be  the  eyes  of  those  who  can  read  them  and  not  dis- 


Teaching  the  Conv.ent  School.         247 

cover  them  to  be  full  of  the  most  considerate  tender- 
ness ?  " 

And  we  must  remember  that  the  chilliness  and 
harshness  which  so  offends  us  is  not  to  be  charged  to 
the  writer  so  much  as  to  the  whole  of  the  false,  un- 
natural system  of  which  she  was  one  of  the  few  re- 
deeming features. 

These  poor  little  Port  Royal  girls  are  to  rise  at 
half-past  four  or  five,  according  to  their  size  and 
strength.  "  They  must  rise  promptly,  not  allowing 
themselves  time  to  get  thoroughly  awake,  for  fear  of 
yielding  to  idleness." 

Prayer,  both  silent  and  audible,  is  the  first  duty, 
and  then  the  elder  ones  comb  each  other's  hair  "  in 
perfect  silence."  This  "  deep,  morning  silence,"  is 
strongly  insisted  on  and  lasts,  so  far  as  we  can  see, 
through  the  greater  part  of  the  day.  For,  after 
Prime,  at  half-past  six,  the  beds  are  made  by  the 
girls  in  couples,  still  in  silence.  Next,  hands  are 
washed  and  mouths  rinsed  with  wine  and  water, 
and  breakfast  follows,  during  which  "  one  of  them 
reads  the  Marty rology  for  the  day." 

At  half-past  seven,  all  withdraw  to  the  work-room, 
"  where  they  must  diligently  improve  their  time  and 
keep  a  strict  silence.  If  it  is  necessary  to  speak  they 
must  do  so  softly,  so  as  not  to  interrupt  those  who 
are  old  enough,  to  hold  communion  with  God.  Even 
the  little  ones  are  taught  not  to  speak,  though  they 


248  Sister  and  Saint. 

are  allowed  to  play  when  their  work  has  been  well 
and  silently  done,  but  each  must  play  by  herself  so 
that  there  may  be  no  noise."  And  here  is  the  first 
glimpse  of  the  tenderness  of  which  Vinet  speaks,  as 
the  writer  adds,  in  her  own  simple,  kindly  way,  "  I 
have  found  that  this  solitude  does  not  trouble  the 
children,  for  when  they  are  used  to  it,  they  seem 
to  amuse  themselves  veiy  merrily."  We  have  a 
second  view  of  her  tenderness,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
a  specimen  of  shrewdness  and  good  management  in 
this  remark :  "  We  teach  them  that  they  ought  to 
perform  disagreeable  tasks  with  more  industry  and 
good  nature  than  pleasant  ones.  But,  nevertheless, 
zve  do  really  Jnwior  them  in  their  tasks  as  far  as  we 
can,  without  allowi^ig  them  to  perceive  itT 

At  eight  o'clock,  the  governess  reads  till  half-past 
eight,  when  all  go  to  church. 

Then  comes  a  writing  lesson  (silent),  before  which 
each  offers  a  short  prayer  that  God  would  help  her 
to  perform  that  duty  aright.  "  We  try  to  impress 
their  minds  gently  with  a  holy  habit  of  never  begin- 
ning an  action  of  any  importance  without  prayer." 

At  eleven,  they  all  examine  themselves  and  after- 
ward repeat  the  Confiteor. 

At  length,  "  the  dinner  bell  rings."  Can  they  be 
girls  now  and  run  down,  waiting  with  bright  faces 
around  the  table  till  their  teacher  joins  them  ?  "  On 
entering  the  dining-hall,  they  curtsey  in  pairs  and  do 


Teaching  the  Co7tvent  School.         249 

the  same  in  passing  any  of  the  sisters.  They  stand 
modestly  in  their  places  till  grace  is  said,  their  sleeves 

falling  over  their  hands They  must  keep  their 

eyes,  always  down,  not  looking  on  either  hand,  but 
quietly  listening  to  what  is  read." 

On  leaving  the  dining-hall,  they  have  a  recess. 
And  now  for  a  little  natural  life  ! 

"  The  little  ones  are  kept  apart  from  the  elder  ones 
in  order  that  the  latter  may  converse  more  quietly 
and  discreetly."  "If  the  recess  is  held  in  a  room, 
the  elder  ones  gather  in  a  circle  round  the  mistress 
and  talk  modestly  and  sociably,  according  to  their 
ability."  "  They  may  be  allowed  to  play  at  innocent 
games,  such  as  battledore  and  shuttlecock.  Not  that 
our  girls  avail  themselves  of  this  permission,  for  all 
of  them,  except  the  very  youngest,  are  so  fond  of 
work  that,  as  I  have  said,  a  holiday  is  irksome  to 
them."  "  The  children  are  to  avoid  every  kind  of 
personal  familiarity,  and  never  to  caj'css,  to  kiss,  or 
even  touch  one  miother  on  any  pretext.  Neither  must 
the  elder  ones  pet  the  little  children. 

"The  recess  closes  with  prayers  asking  for  grace  to 
enable  them  to  pass  holily  the  remainder  of  the  day." 

It  would  be  wearisome  to  follow  these  school-girls 
through  the  whole  day,  till  the  evening  bell  calls  them 
from  their  walk  in  the  garden  to  undress  "  with  silence 
and  dispatch,"  and  go  each  to  her  separate  bed.  We 
will  simply  make  a-  few  more  extracts  from  the  rules : 


250  Sister  and  Saint. 

"  We  avoid  talking  much  to  the  children,  feeling 
that  instruction  does  more  good  if  they  are  not 
wearied  with  it." 

"  We  do  not  seek  to  render  them  too  spiritually- 
minded,  unless  God  himself  has  made  them  so,  be- 
cause either  they  might  set  too  close  a  watch  upon 
themselves  and  so  weary  the  mind  and  fancy,  instead 
of  communing  with  God,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  might 
feel  too  much  discouraged  at  finding  it  impossible  to 
attain  the  perfection  demanded  of  them." 

"  I  find  it  a  good  way  of  forming  a  habit  of  indus- 
try to  allow  them  to  do  at  recess  some  work  which 
they  like  and  can  not  do  at  any  other  time.  I  taught 
them,  for  instance,  to  make  worsted  gloves,  and  as 
they  can  only  do  this  during  their  recess,  they  are 
very  eager  after  it." 

*'  We  are  careful  to  make  them  speak  politely,  hold 
themselves  uprightly  and  gracefully,  and  curtsey 
when  they  enter  or  leave  the  room." 

"  They  must  not  speak  of  the  singing  of  the  sister- 
hood, remarking  that  one  sister  sings  better  than 
another,  etc." 

"  Uncharitable  conversation  is  specially  prohibited, 
and  they  are  taught  never  to  say  anything  that  might 
be  unpleasant  to  one  of  their  number,  though  in  it- 
self harmless,  because  it  is  enough  to  know  that  any 
one  present  would  prefer  some  other  topic  of  dis- 
course." 


Teaching  the  Convetit  School.         251 


"  We  try'  to  make  them  yield  precedence  to  one  an- 
other from  that  holy  politeness  which  charity  alone 
produces. 

"  I  think  that  really  to  do  children  any  good  we 
ought  never  to  speak  or  act  for  their  benefit  without 
first  looking  to  God  and  asking  His  holy  aid." 

"  We  ought  to  be  very  kind  and  tender  toward 
them,  never  neglecting  either  their  internal  or  exter- 
nal wants,  and  showing  them  that  we  grudge  nothing 
to  serve  them." 

"  Example  is  the  most  effective  method  of  teach- 
ing. For  the  devil  helps  them  to  remember  our 
slightest  failures,  and  hinders  them  from  remembering 
tlie  little  good  we  do." 

"  As  to  their  trivial  defects,  I  think  it  best  seldom 
to  notice  these,  because  they  otherwise  gradually  get 
accustomed  to  be  found  fault  with." 

"  They  ought  to  be  treated  politely,  spoken  to  with 
respect,  and  yielded  to  where  it  is  possible." 

"  We  ought  to  consider  them  as  sacred  deposits 
placed  by  God  in  our  hands,  for  which  we  must  ren- 
der an  account  to  Him.  Therefore  it  is  best  to  say 
little  to  the  children,  and  much  to  God  on  their  be- 
half." 

More  and  more,  as  we  proceed,  does  the  hidden 
love  and  wisdom  become  manifest,  and  as  we  read  the 
final  word  we  are  ready  to  say  with  Mrs.  Schimmel- 
penninck,  "  although  many  treatises  on  education  have 


252  Sister  and  Saint. 

appeared  in  modern  times,  and  many  which  have 
been  distinguished  for  the  splendid  talents  of  the 
writers,  perhaps  not  many  among  them  surpass  in 
true  wisdom,  in  a  deep  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart,  or  reality  of  experience,  these  *  Reglements'  of 
Jacqueline  Pascal."  "  Nor  is  it  to  be  forgotten,  that 
whilst  the  press  teems  with  numberless  theories,  this 
little,  but  inestimable  work  details  a  system  which 
was  tried,  and  that  with  unexampled  success,  for 
above  sixty  years  ;  and  which,  at  the  end  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  years,  still  entitles  its  author  to  the  rever- 
ence due  to  transcendent  piety  and  the  admiration 
due  to  super-eminent  talent." 


THE    MASTERPIECE    AND    THE 
MIRACLE. 


XVII. 


THE   MASTERPIECE   AND   THE   MIRACLE. 


T.  CYRAN  and  Jansen  were  both  in  ihelf 
graves,  but  the  truth  they  loved  lived  after 
them.  Its  enemies, 'too,  were  active  still.  The 
hatred  of  the  Jesuits  was  the  rightful  inheritance  of 
the  second  generation  of  Port  Royalists  who  are  now 
on  the  stage. 

In  order  to  understand  that  hatred  and  the  climax 
it  now  reached,  it  will  be  well  at  this  point  to  recall 
some  facts  in  regard  to  both  Jesuits  and  Jansenists. 

In  the  first  place  the  Jesuits  had  an  old  grudge 
against'  the  father  of  the  Arnaulds,  on  account  of  a 
remarkably  forcible  and  eloquent  charge  he  had  made 
against  them  when  he  was  a  rising  young  advocate. 
This  success,  Pascal  wittily  said,  was  the  "  original 
sin"  of  Jansenism.  And  some  of  the  later  sins  had 
been  of  the  same  sort.  Such  were  those  flourishing 
and  popular  schools  and  the  widely-circulated  school- 
books.     And  such  were  the  irtcreasing  num.bers  of  tal- 

(255) 


256  -   Sister  and  Saint. 

ented  and  influential  men  and  women  constantly 
joining  the  Port  Royal  ranks.  We  remember,  too, 
that  there  was  an  old  quarrel  with  Pascal  in  the  mat- 
ter of  his  atmospherical  experiments.  Father  Noel 
and  his  confreres  could  not  be  expected  to  love  the 
Jansenists  any  better  after  Pascal  became  one  of  their 
number. 

More  than  this,  the  strict  morals  and  ascetic  habits 
of  these  people  were  a  constant  though  silent  reproach 
of  the  lax  principles  and  "  casuistic  morality  "  of  Jes- 
uitism. The  ideal  of  true  Christian  living  was  plainly 
more  nearly  approached  at  Port  Royal  than  in  the 
Jesuit  colleges. 

"  A  little  church  born  of  the  Spirit,  within  the  visi- 
ble and  regnant  church,"  the  Jansenist  body  has  been 
fitly  called.  Disowned,  indeed,  they  were  by  the 
Romish  communion,  but  ''  they  obstinately  refused 
to  accept  that  disavowal."  It  was  "  grievous "  to 
them,  as  Pascal  said,  "  to  find  themselves  in  a  strait 
betwixt  God  and  the  Pope."  But  they  did  their  best 
for  many  years  to  stand  in  that  difficult  and  danger- 
6us  position. 

We  must  remember,  now,  in  addition  to  all  this, 
that  the  Jesuits  had  great  influence  with  the  Govern- 
ment. "They  especially  coveted,"  we  are  told,  "  to 
guide  the  consciences  of  men  in  power."  "There 
were  very  few  princes  on  the  throne,  nobles  in  the 
realm,  dignitaries  in  the  Church,  or  religious  houses 


The  Masterpiece  and  the  Miracle.     257 

belonging  to  any  order,  which  were  not,  either 
directly  or  remotely,  under  their  influence."  The 
young  king,  whatever  else  had  been  lacking  in  his 
education,  had  been  well  indoctrinated  by  his  Jesuit 
confessor,  Father  Annat,  with  hatred  of  the  Jansenists. 
And  it  was  an  easy  matter  to  persuade  Anne  of  Aus- 
tria and  Cardinal  Mazarin  that  the  Port  Royal  schools 
were  **  hot-beds  of  heresy"  and  must  be  abolished. 

Early  in  1656,  the  year  to  which  Jacqueline  Pascal's 
letters  have  brought  us,  the  matter  seemed  to  have 
reached  its  crisis.  Over  the  heads  of  the  Port  Royal- 
ists hung  the  censure  of  the  Sorbonne  (the  University 
of  France)  on  a  book  of  Arnauld's,  "  De  la  frequente 
Communion,"  and,  worse  than  that,  the  author's  con- 
demnation by  the  Pope.  And  after  bewildering  and 
almost  interminable  disputations,  lasting  from  July  of 
one  year  to  May  of  the  next,  the  Holy  See  had  con- 
demned the  celebrated  "  Five  Propositions." 

These  propositions  were  referred  to  in  the  chapter 
on  Jansen,  but  we  must  look  at  them  more  closely 
here.  They  were  five  statements,  which  Father  Cor- 
net, a  Jesuist  priest,  had  with  marvelous  subtlety  and 
art  framed  out  of  Jansen's  "  Augustinus."  "  They 
were  worded, '  Mrs.  Schimmelpenninck  tells  us,  "with 
the  most  artful  ambiguity.  The  phrases  were  so  con- 
trived as  to  be  capable  of  two  constructions,  widely 
differing  from,  each  other."  In  some  cases  it  was  only 
the  question  of  a  comma's  position  in  the  sentence. 


258  Sister  and  Saint. 

, ic . 

Now,  there  was  not  one  of  these  propositions  which 
the  Jansenists  would  not  have  condemned,  if  bearing 
the  meaning  the  Jesuits  imputed  to  them.  But  they 
denied  that  they  were  to  be  found  in  any  such  sense 
in  the  "  Augustinus." 

Hence,  when  a  "  formulary"  was  drawn  up  for  them 
to  sign,  condemning  these  propositions,  they  signed 
without  any  ado,  but,  one  and  all,  added  a  line  stating 
that  the  propositions  were  not  to  be  iound  in  Jan- 
sen's  book,  and  pointing  out  wherein  they  differed. 

This  was  disappointing.  Simple,  straightforward 
truth  had  cut  the  twisted  knot !  But  the  Jesuits 
were  equal  to  the  emergency,  as  we  shall  see. 

They  began  their  work  of  vengeance  by  getting  an 
order  from  Government  for  the  breaking  up  of  the 
Port  Royal  schools — the  schools  for  boys.  "  The  offi- 
cers of  the  police,  accompanied  by  a  troop  of  archers, 
were  sent  to  Port  Royal  des  Champs,  where  they 
made  a  list  of  the  schools.  They  then  proceeded  to 
each,  and  immediately  turned  out  all  the  masters  and 
scholars."  Racine,  the  poet,  was  a  pupil  in  one  of 
the  schools  at  the  time  of  the  dispersion,  and  has 
given  an  account  of  it  in  his  "  Histoire  de  Port  Roy- 
al." The  recluses  were  also  driven  away  from  Lcs 
Granges  on  pain  of  imprisonment.  Pascal  took  lodg- 
ings in  Paris,  where  he  soon  had  plenty  of  work  to  do 
for  his  cause. 

"  Immediately  after,  an  order  of  council  was  signed 


The  Masterpiece  ajtd  the  Miracle.     259 

against  the  nuns.  It  was  resolved  that,  every  scholar, 
postulant,  and  novice  should  be  turned  out  of  both 
houses  of  Port  Royal."  The  decree  had  been  given 
and  was  on  the  point  of  execution  when  two  remark- 
able events  occurred  which  had  the  effect  of  delaying 
the  persecution  for  five  years.  One  of  these  events 
was  the  publication  of  Pascal's  most  famous  work, 
the  "  Provincial  Letters  "  ;  the  other  was  a  so-called 
miracle,  effecting  a  wonderful  cure  on  the  person  of 
Margaret  Perier,  Jacqueline's  niece,  who  was  a  novice 
of  Port  Royal. 

The  stoiy  of  the  "  Provincial  Letters  "  is  an  inter- 
esting one : 

There  was  a  good  old  nobleman,  the  Due  de  Lian- 
court,  living  in  Paris,  who  went  one  day  to  his  church 
in  the  parish  of  St.  Sulpice  to  confess.  The  duke  had 
once  made  a  retreat  at  Lcs  Granges  and  he  had  a  little 
granddaughter  in  the  boarding-school  at  Port  Royal. 

When  he  had  finished  his  confession  that  day  the 
priest  said,  "  I  can  not  give  you  absolution.  You  are 
guilty  of  two  sins  which  you  have  not  confessed  :  you 
have  a  relative  who  is  a  pensionnaire  at  Port  Royal 
and  you  have  dealings  with  those  heretics — ^the  gen- 
tlemen recluses  of  Lcs  Granges^ 

The  aged  duke  admitted  the  facts,  but  was  not 
willing  to  confess  them  as  sins,  and  quietly  went 
away  without  absolution.  But  the  affair  made  a  great 
deal  of  talk. 


26o  Sister  and  Saint. 


Arnauld  ("the  great  Arnauld,"  Angelique's  young- 
est brother,)  had  been  trying  to  keep  still  after  his 
last  condemnation.  But  he  was  a  born  controversialist 
and  he  could  hold  his  peace  no  longer. 

He  came  out  in  a  series  of  letters  on  the  subject, 
and  that  was  the  signal  for  a  wordy  tournament,  two 
months  long,  between  himself  single-handed  and  the 
doctors  of  the  Sorbonne.  Arnauld  produced  ream 
after  ream  of  solid  argument  (in  Latin),  and  was 
written  down  or  talked  down  by  the  Jesuits,  with 
Pere  Annat,  Louis  Fourteenth's  confessor,  prominent 
among  them. 

The  Due  de  Liancourt  and  his  affair  were  very  soon 
left  behind,  as  the  combatants  rushed  once  more  into 
the  labyrinth  of  the  "  Five  Propositions."  Eighteen 
or  twenty  sessions  of  the  theological  faculty  were 
spent  on  the  question  "du  fait " — that  is,  whether 
the  propositions  were,  in  fact,  in  the  "  Augustinus  "  ; 
the  remainder  of  the  time  on  the  question  du  droit — 
that  is,  whether  the  propositions  were  orthodox  if 
they  were  there. 

On  the  14th  of  January — a  few  days  before  the  dis- 
persion of  the  recluses — Arnauld  was  censured  on  the 
question  oi  fact,  and  the  doctors  went  on  to  take  up 
the  question  of  right,  with  the  prospect  of  another 
censure  on  that. 

The  great  leader  returned  to  his  friends  at  Port 
Royal,  we  may  well  believe  a  little  dispirited.    "The 


The  Masterpiece  and  the  Miracle.     261 

gentlemen  there,"  Sainte-Beuve  tells  us,  "  all  begged 
him  to  write  something  in  his  defense — something 
addressed  to  the  public."  His  "  labored,  geometric 
apologies,"  in  Latin,  addressed  to  the  Sorbonne,  did 
not  come  anywhere  near  the  people,  and  they,  seeing 
all  this  array  of  ecclesiastical  and  scholarly  authority 
against  him,  could  only  suppose  th/it  the  very  founda- 
tions of  the  faith  were  in  danger.  "Address  yourself 
to  the  public,"  urged  his  friends.  "  It  is  time  the 
people  should  be  undeceived.  Are  you  going  to  let 
yourself  be  condemned  like  a  child  that  has  nothing 
to  say  for  itself  ?  " 

"  He  wrote,  therefore,"  says  Margaret  Perier  in  her 
Memoirs,  "  and  read  his  production  to  them  all.  But 
no  one  gave  it  any  praise.  M.  Arnauld  understood 
their  silence,  and  as  he  did  not  covet  applause,  he 
said, '  I  see  very  clearly  you  think  this  a  poor  perform- 
ance, and  you  are  right,'  and  turning  to  M.  Pascal,  he 
added:  'You — you  are  young, — you  might  do  some- 
thing.' " 

*'  M.  Pascal  wrote  the  first  Provincial,  and  read  it 
to  them.  M.  Arnauld  cried, '  That  is  excellent ;  every 
one  will  like  that;  it  must  be  printed.'" 

"This  was  done,"  adds  Pascal's  niece  simply. 
**  The  success  it  had  is  well  known,  and  the  work 
went  on." 

"The  success  it  had," — it  and  its  seventeen  succes- 
sors— was  imminse.     Perhaps  no  literary  success  was 


262  Sister  anU  Saint, 

ever  more  im-nediate — and  probably  no  series  of 
eighteen  letters  ever  more  completely  reversed  the 
public  sentiment  of  a  nation.  Jansenism  and  Jes- 
uitism, as  they  had  been  known  in  these  interminable 
theological  debates,  for  so  many  years,  were  matters 
of  indifference  to  a  large  proportion  of  the  population. 
But  these  letters  ! — everybody  wanted  to  read  them. 
The  court  ladies  laughed  over  their  satires.  The  keen, 
clear-headed  French  middle  classes  enjoyed  their  sharp, 
unerring  truthfulness.  Thinking  people  were  con- 
vinced by  their  arguments.  Unthinking  people  were 
carried  away  by  their  eloquence.  "  By  his  inimitable 
pleasantry,  Pascal  succeeded  in  making  even  the  dullest 
matters  of  scholastic  theology  and  Jesuitical  casuistry 
as  attractive  to  the  people  as  a  comedy ;  and,  by  his 
little  volume,  did  more  to  render  this  formidable  So- 
ciety the  contempt  of  Europe  than  was  ever  done  by 
all  its  other  enemies  put  together."* 

"They  killed  the  Jesuits,"  says  Sainte-Beuve.  "I 
say  killed  deliberately.  I  know  the  Jesuits  still  live, 
and,  in  some  respects,  prosper.  But  I  maintain  that 
they  are  slain  in  the  sense  that  they  are  forever  fallen 
from  the  center  of  action  which  they  occupied,  and 
have  lost  the  access  to  the  government  of  the  world." 
"  It  was  a  shaft  from  a  bow  doubly  strung,"  says  an- 


'  Henry  Rogers,  ay  hor  of  "  The  Eclipse  of  Faith." 


The  Masterpiece  arid  the  Miracle.     263 

other  writer,* — "strung  with  genius  and  piety,  and 
his  enemies  could  not  recover." 

The  Chancellor  of  the  Jesuit  College  was  so  en- 
raged at  the  effect  of  the  letters  that  his  physicians 
ordered  him  to  be  bled  seven  times.  And  far  off  in 
the  provinces  ecclesiastical  councils  which  had  met 
to  censure  Arnauld  changed  their  minds  and  censured 
the  Jesuits  instead. 

Margaret  Perier  gives  us  a  glimpse  of  her  uncle's 
life  while  he  was  writing  these  immortal  letters  : 

"  He  went  to  an  inn,  where  he  was  not  known,  and 
remained  there  at  work  under  the  name  of  M.  de 
Mons."  (The  old  home  at  Clermont  and  the  Piiy  du 
Dome  were  not  forgotten).  "  M.  Perier,  his  brother- 
in-law,  took  lodgings  in  the  same  inn  as  a  stranger 
from  the  country,  not  letting  the  relationship  be 
known." 

One  day  they  were  very  near  discovery.  Father 
Defretal,  a  Jesuit,  a  friend  and  relative  of  M.  Perier's, 

o 

called  on  the  latter  to  give  him  a  friendly  warning. 
"  He  said  that  the  Society  of  Jesuits  were  firmly 
persuaded  that  M.  Pascal,  his  brother-in-law,  was  the 
author  of  those  *  little  letters '  which  were  having  such 
a  run  in  Paris,  and  that  M.  Perier  would  do  well  to 
warn  him  and  advise  him  to  stop  writing  them  or  he 
might  find  himself  in  trouble." 


*  Essay  in  the  North  British  Peview, 


264  Sister  afkl  Saint. 


After  a  long  call,  "  the  Jesuit  went  away,  repeating 
that  M.  Pascal  ought  to  be  warned  and  to  beware. 
M.  Perier  was  greatly  relieved  at  his  departure,  foi 
at  that  very  moment  there  were  spread  out  upon  his 
bed  to  dry  a  score  of  copies  of  the  seventh  or  eighth 
letter.  A  Jesuit  brother,  who  had  accompanied 
Father  Defretal,  sat  very  near  the  bed,  but  luckily 
the  curtains  were  drawn  and  the  papers  were  not  dis- 
covered. M.  Perier  at  once  ran  up-stairs  to  tell  M 
Pascal,  whose  room  was  overhead,  though  the  Jesuits 
had  no  idea  of  his  being  so  near  them." 

Neither  had  the  Jesuits  any  idea  where  these  let- 
ters were  printed,  though  they  tried  hard  to  find  out, 
for,  with  equal  boldness  and  sagacity,  Pascal  had  them 
printed  under  the  very  shadow  of  the  Jesuit  college. 

Some  of  the  Port  Royal  gentlemen,  who,  though 
scattered,  were  in  frequent  communication,  had  doubts 
as  to  the  propriety  of  using  these  carnal  weapons  of 
ivit  and  satire  in  defense  of  the  truth.  Good  Abb6 
Singlin,  in  particular,  thought  that  "  merriment  was 
out  of  place  when  applied  to  religious  subjects." 

As  for  Pascah  himself,  ascetic  and  sufferer  that  he 
was,  it  was  probable  the  sure  instinct  of  genius 
rather  than  any  personal  delight  in  mirth  that  led 
n.'m  to  unsheathe  this  shining  blade.  "  When  we 
regard  his  life,  so  afflicted,  sad,  and  short,"  says  Vil- 
lemain,  "  we  can  scarcely  understand  that  super- 
abundance of  humor  with  which  this  man  floods  the 


The  Masterpiece  and  the  Miracle.     265 

arid  fields  of  scholasticism."  Yet  we  can  not  help 
thinking  that  he  must  have  thoroughly  and  heartily- 
enjoyed  himself  for  once,  as  he  gave  free  play  to  all 
those  varied  powers  he  had  been  trying  so  long  to 
cramp  and  kill. 

He  defends  himself  for  the  use  of  satire  and  for  his 
entire  mode  of  attack,  in  this  passage  of  the  sixteenth 
letter : 

"  I  was  asked  if  I  repented  having  written  '  Les 
Provinciales.'  I  reply  that,  far  from  having  repented, 
if  I  had  to  write  them  now,  I  would  write  even  more 
strongly.  I  was  asked  why  I  have  given  the  names 
of  the  authors  from  whom  I  have  taken  all  the  abon; 
inable  propositions  I  have  cited.  I  answer,  that  if  1 
lived  in  a  city  where  there  were  a  dozen  fountains, 
and  if  I  certainly  knew  that  one  of  them  was  poisoned, 
I  should  be  obliged  to  warn  everybody  to  draw  no 
water  from  that  fountain  ;  and,  as  they  might  think 
it  pure  imagination  on  my  part,  I  should  be  obliged 
to  name  him  who  had  poisoned  it,  rather  than  ex- 
pose all  the  city  to  the  danger  of  being  poisoned  by 
it.  I  was  asked  why  I  had  employed  a  pleasant, 
jocose,  and  diverting  style.  I  reply  that  if  I  had 
written  in  a  dogmatical  style,  it  would  have  been 
only  the  learned  who  would  have  read,  and  they 
would  have  had  no  necessity  to  do  it,  being,  art:  least, 
as  well  acquainted  with  the  subject  as  myself :  thus, 

I  thought  it  a  duty  to  write  so  as  to  be  comprehended 
12 


266  Sister  and  Saint. 

by  women  and  men  of  the  world,  that  they  might 
know  the  danger  of  those  maxims  and  propositions 
which  were  then  universally  propagated,  and  of  which 
they  allowed  themselves  to  be  so  easily  persuaded. 

"  I  was  asked,  lastly,  if  I  had  myself  read  all  the 
books  I  have  cited.  I  answer.  No  ;  for  in  that  case 
it  would  have  been  necessary  to  have  passed  my  life 
in  reading  very  bad  books ;  but  I  have  read  through 
the  whole  of  '  Escobar  '*  twice,  and,  for  the  others, 
I  caused  them  to  be  read  by  my  friends.  But  I  have 
never  used  a  single  passage  without  having  myself 
read  it  in  the  book  cited,  or  without  having  examined 
the  subject  on  which  it  is  adduced,  or  without  having 
read  both  what  precedes  and  what  follows  it,  in  order 
that  I  might  not  run  the  risk  of  quoting  what  was,  in 
fact,  an  objection  to  a  reply  to  it,  which  would  have 
been  censurable  and  unjust." 

One  of  the  strongest  proofs  of  the  genius  of  these 
letters  is  the  fact  that,  notwithstanding  the  difference 
in  time,  in  country,  in  belief,  in  habits  of  thought, 
they  are  interesting  reading  to  us  to-day, 

M.  Louis  de  Montalte,  the  supposed  writer  (again 
we  have  a  hint  of  Clermont  in  the  nom  de  plume),  is 
an  honest  provincial  gentleman,  of  much  ignorance 
and  great  naivete,  who  sets  out  for  Paris  to  gain  infor- 
mation in  regard  to  the  theological  disputes  of  the 
age,  and  particularly  the  doctrines  of  the  Jesuits. 

*  A  celebrated  Spanish  Jesuit  authority. 


The  Masterpiece  and  the  Miracle.     267 

He  addresses  himself  to  a  worthy  Jesuit  father, 
who,  in  his  boundless  admiration  for  his  own  order, 
and  in  the  hope  of  gaining  a  convert,  details  without 
hesitation  —  indeed,  with  triumph  —  all  the  arts  of 
casuistry. 

"  The  arch  simplicity  with  which  the  provincial 
involves  the  worthy  father  in  the  most  perplexing 
dilemmas — the  expressions  of  unsophisticated  aston- 
ishment wjiich  but  prompt  his  stolid  guide  eagerly 
to  make  good  every  assertion  by  a  proper  array  of 
authorities — a  device  which,  as  Pascal  has  used  it, 
converts  what  would  have  been  in  other  hands  only 
a  dull  catalogue  of  citations,  into  a  source  of  perpetual 
amusement — the  droll  consequences  which,  with  in- 
finite affectation  of  simplicity,  he  draws  from  the 
Jesuit's  doctrines — the  logical  exigencies  into  which 
the  latter  is  thrown  in  the  attempt  to  obviate  them, — 
all  these  things,  managed  as  only  Pascal  could  have 
managed  them,  render  the  book  as  entertaining  as 
any  novel.  The  form  of  letters  enables  him  at  the 
same  time  to  intersperse  the  most  eloquent  and  glow- 
ing invectives  against  the  doctrines  he  exposes."* 

This  book  of  Pascal's  is  an  acknowledged  French 
classic.  Voltaire  declared  it  to  be  the  first  work  of 
genius  in  French  prose.  Before  Pascal  the  language 
had  been  heavy,  involved.  Latinized.     Pascal  "  threw 


*  Kenry  Rogers,  author  of  "  Eclipse  of  Faith." 


268  Sister  a7id  Sai7it, 

off  the  yoke "  of  Latinism,  ''  and  formed  the  clear, 
exact  French."  "As  Corneille  is  the  father  and 
founder  of  French  poetry,  so  is  Pascal  of  French 
prose,"  says  Cousin.  And  Voltaire  again  remarks 
that  "  Moliere  does  not  excel  these  letters  in  wit, 
nor  Bossuet  in  sublimity." 

A  wonderful  transparency  is  the  chief  character- 
istic of  Pascal's  style.  "  We  see,"  says  Faugere, 
"  Thought  herself  arrayed  in  her  own  chaste  nudity 
like  an  antique  statue." 

His  wit  is  as  delicate  as  it  is  keen.  "  Probably  no 
one  ever  knew  so  well  when  to  stay  his  hand."* 

"  The  remarkable  simplicity  which  characterizes 
Pascal's  style  is  owing  to  the  great  labor  he  bestowed 
on  his  writings."!  Nicole  says  that  he  often  spent 
twenty  days  on  a  single  letter,  and  some  of  them 
were  written  seven  times  over  before  they  satisfied 
him.  "  This  letter  is  a  very  long  one,"  he  once 
apologizes,  "  simply  because  I  had  not  time  to  make 
it  shorter." 

The  second  remarkable  event  which  delayed  the 
persecution  was  the  wonderful  cure  ascribed  to  the 
agency  of  the  Holy  Thorn. 

Margaret  Perier,  from  whose  "  Memoirs "  of  her 
uncle  and  aunt  we  have  more  than  once  quoted,  was 
at  this  time  a  child  of  ten  years,  a  member  of  the 

*  Rogers.  f  Villemain. 


The  Masterpiece  and  t'he  Miracle.     269 

school  of  Port  Royal  de  Paris.  She  had  been  af- 
flicted for  three  years  and  a  half  with  what  was  sup- 
posed to  be  fistula  lacJirynialis  of  the  left  eye.  The 
bones  of  the  nose  were  said  to  be  diseased,  and  the 
whole  case  was  a  most  malignant  one,  distressing 
even  to  read  about.  The  physicians  had  made  up 
their  minds  to  cautery  as  a  last  resort,  and  M.  Perier, 
who  had  been  absent  in  Auvergne  for  a  time,  was 
hastening  back  to  be  present  at  the  operation. 

Jacqueline  tells  the  story  of  the  cure  in  a  letter  to 
Madame  Perier,  dated  March  29,  1656: 

"  Last  Friday,  M.  de  la  Potherie  "  (an  assiduous 
collector  of  relics)  "  sent  hither  a  very  handsome 
reliquary  to  our  Mothers,  having  within  it  a  splinter 
from  the  sacred  crown  of  thorns,  set  in  a  little  sun  of 
gilded  silver,  in  order  that  the  whole  community 
might  enjoy  the  sight.  Before  returning  it,  they  had 
it  placed  on  a  little  altar  in  the  choir,  and  when  an 
anthem  had  been  chanted  in  its  honor,  each  sister 
went  up  and  kissed  it  on  her  knees,  and  so  did  the 
children,  one  by  one. 

"  Sister  Flavie,  their  governess,  made  a  sign  to  Mar- 
garet as  she  drew  near,  to  touch  her  eye  with  the 
relic,  and  herself  took  it  up  and  laid  it  on  the  spot, 
hardly  thinking  what  she  was  doing.  When  all  had 
retired,  it  was  sent  back  to  M.  de  la  Potherie. 

"  That  same  evening.  Sister  Flavie,  who  had  forgot- 
ten the  circumstance,  heard  Margaret  say  to  one  of 


270  Sister  and  Saint. 

the  little  girls,  '  My  eye  is  cured  ;  it  does  not  pain  me 
at  all  now.'  Not  a  little  surprised,  she  went  to  the 
child,  and  found  that  the  swelling  in  the  corner  of 
her  eye,  which  in  the  morning  was  as  thick  as  her 
fing-er-tip,  and  very  long  arid  hard,  had  quite  gone 
down,  and  the  eye  itself  appeared  as  healthy  as  the 
other,  and  looked  precisely  like  it." 

The  sisterhood  proceeded  with  their  usual  calm- 
ness and  good  sense  in  the  matter.  Mother  Agnes 
(Angelique  was  at  des  Champs)  was  informed  at  once, 
and  the  next  day  she  told  Jacqueline  Pascal. 

They  then  waited  a  week,  saying  nothing  about  it, 
and  at  the  end  of  that  time  Jacqueline  wrote  to  the 
child's  mother;  **  It  really  needs  far  more  faith  for  any 
one  who  did  not  see  her  in  her  former  state  to  be- 
lieve that  the  eye  was  diseased  than  it  does  for  those 
who  did  see  her  to  believe  the  cure  was  produced  by 
a  miracle." 

The  doctor  came  to  see  her  now,  and  the  child  was 
brought  to  him  without  a  word  being  said.  He  began 
to  press,  and  probe,  and  examine.  "  Don't  you  re- 
member what  a  bad  eye  I  had?"  said  the  little  girl. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  am  trying  to  find,"  said  the 
doctor,  "  but  I  see  no  traces  of  it." 

Thereupon  Sister  Flavie  told  him  what  had  hap- 
pened. He  asked  if  the  cure  was  instantaneous. 
The  child  confirmed  her  statement  that  it.  was,  upon 
which  he  said  he  was  wilh'ng  to  declare  upon  oath 


The  Masterpiece  and  the  Miracle.      271 

that  such  a  cure  could  not  have  taken  place  without 
a  miracle. 

Waiting  two  weeks  longer,  seven  physicians  and 
surgeons  examined  the  case  and  made  a  report  to  the 
same  effect. 

M.  Perier,  in  his  great  joy,  spoke  freely  about  the 
matter,  and  all  Paris  was  soon  ringing  with  the  story. 
Anne  of  Austria  was  at  first  skeptical,  but  after  send- 
ing M.  Felix,  the  king's  first  surgeon,  to  make  an 
examination,  she  was  obliged  to  accept  the  universal 
verdict.  Then  the  Grand  Vicar  of  the  Archbishop  of 
Paris  inquires,  approves,  and  verifies,  and  the  miracle 
is  publicly  sanctioned  by  the  Church, 

The  Provincial  letters  had  convinced  one  class  of 
minds.  The  miracle  convinced  another  class.  Port 
Royal  all  at  once  became  fashionable  again.  The 
church  was  so  crowded  at  the  weekly  Friday  services 
that  seats  had  to  be  secured  months  beforehand.  The 
ladies  of  the  court  begged  the  privilege  of  making  re- 
treats at  both  convents.  There  were  almost  daily 
conversions  to  Jansenism.  The  Queen  of  Poland,  the 
Princess  Guemenee,  the  Marquis  de  Sevigne,  and  a 
long  list  of  dukes  and  duchesses  were  among  those 
who  frequently  sought  retirement  in  the  cloisters, 
and,  according  to  Mrs.  Schimmelpenninck,  "  edified 
the  world  by  an  upright  and  godly  conversation." 

The  most  remarkable  conversion  was  that  of  the 
Duchesse  de  Longueville,  sister  of  the  great  Conde. 


272  Sister  and  Saint. 

She  seems  to  have  become,  indeed,  a  changed  wom- 
an, and  the  same  is  true  of  her  brother  and  sister,  the 
Prince  and  Princess  of  Conti.  "  Their  houses,  reti- 
nue, and  equipage  became  marked  with  strict  econ- 
omy. Their  princely  revenues  were  poured  into  the 
bosom  of  those  whose  fortune  had  been  injured  by 
the  late  civil  war.  They  did  not  refuse  to  make  the 
most  humiliating  and  public  acknowledgments  of 
their  guilt.  Nor  did  they  ever  afterward  spend  more 
than  was  absolutely  necessary  on  themselves ;  till, 
after  a  lapse  of  many  years,  all  the  provinces  injured 
by  the  war  had  been  fully  indemnified  by  their 
princely  donations." 

It  is  quite  beyond  the  scope  of  this  little  book  to 
discuss  the  miracle  of  the  "  Holy  Thorn."  Indeed, 
we  think  with  Sir  James  Stephen  that  "  time  must 
be  at  some  discount  with  any  one  who  should  em- 
ploy it  in  adjusting  the  balance  of  improbabilities  "  in 
this  case. 

We  know  that,  as  Sainte-Beuve  says,  "  it  would  have 
been  impossible  for  either  Blaise  or  Jacqueline  Pascal 
to  lend  themselves  to  anything  like  deception,"  and 
it  is  evident  from  their  letters  that  they  were  both 
humble  believers  in  the  miracle. 

Neither  could  any  of  the  Arnaulds  have  been 
parties  to  the  deception,  if  deception  there  were. 
It  was  much  against  Angelique's  taste  to  have  the 
matter  talked  about,  and  she  said  that  if  she  had 


The  Masterpiece  and  the  Miracle.     273 

prayed  for  a  miracle  she  should  have  asked  that  one 
might  be  performed  upon  the  soul  rather  than  upon 
the  body. 

After  this  great  event,  the  bann  of  silence  was  re- 
moved from  Jacqueline  Pascal's  muse,  and  by  order 
of  her  superiors,  she  wrote  a  long  poem  in  honor  of 
the  miracle.  Cousin  tries  to  find  in  it  some  echo  of 
Corneille,  but  we  are  inclined  to  agree  with  Sainte- 
Beuve  in  thinking  it  "  parfaitement  detestable."  In 
the  awakening  of  nobler  powers  that  little  gift  of 
versifying  had  been  lost. 


SORROWFUL    DAYS 


XVIII. 


SORROWFUL  DAYS. 


]T  is  pleasant  to  think  of  the  next  three  or  four 
years  —  years  of  peace  and  plenty — when  the 
nuns  returned  to  their  unmolested  worship,  when 
the  recluses  gathered  again  at  their  beloved  farm- 
house, and  this  whole  little  community  of  the  Lord's 
faithful  ones  rejoiced  in  what  seemed  to  them  His 
visible  smile  and  blessing. 

These  were  busy  years  for  Jacqueline.  She  was 
promoted  to  the  post  of  Sub-Prioress  of  Port  Royal 
des  Champs,  and  left  Paris  never  to  return.  Her  let- 
ters are  few  and  brief,  but  cheerful.  Whatever  her 
attainments  in  self-mortification,  it  is  impossible  that 
she  should  not  have  felt  a  noble  pleasure  in  her 
brother's  great  success.  The  nuns  were  not  allowed 
secular  reading,  but,  for  once,  they  had  access  to  the 
choicest  that  French  literature  could  give  them,  in 
chese  "  Provincial  letters."  Jacqueline  refers  to  them 
once  or  twice,  always  in  that  tone  of  unsurprised  and 

(277) 


giyS  Sister  and  Saint. 

assured  calm  which  is  so  beautiful  to  see  in  the  "  sis- 
ters of  genius."  The  world,  to  be  sure,  may  be  going 
mad  over  this  remarkable  performance,  but  the>  ? — 
they  are  not  astonished — they  have  known  all  the 
time  that  their  hearts'  beloved  could  do  this  thing ! 

Whatever  complacency  the  author  himself  may 
have  felt  in  his  work  so  splendidly  done,  he  was  care- 
ful to  check  it  at  once,  as  he  did  every  feeling  of 
pleasure.  Madame  Perier  tells  us :  ''  He  wore  an 
iron  girdle  lined  with  points,  next  his  naked  flesh, 
and  whenever  there  came  to  him  any  feeling  of  satis- 
faction in  having  assisted  or  advised  another,  or  when 
he  took  pleasure  in  the  place  where  he  was,  or  in  any 
circumstance  whatever,  he  gave  himself  a  blow  with 
his  elbow,  to  redouble  the  violence  of  the  co'.i5-tant 
pain  and  make  him  remember  his  duty.  Thir,  prac- 
tice  appeared  to  him  so  useful  that  he  continued  it 
through  his  increasing  feebleness  till  the  close  of  his 

life His   great   maxim   was   to   renounce   all 

pleasure  and  all  superfluity,  and  he  labored  without 
ceasing  for  mortification." 

In  February,  1660,  Jacqueline  writes  a  letter  to  her 
nieces,  Margaret  and  Jacqueline  Perier,  who  are  both 
now  at  Port  Royal  de  Paris.  This  is  the  only  speci- 
men of  her  handwriting  now  extant — a  "beautiful 
handwriting  and  orthography,"  Cousin  tells  us. 

"  My  very  dear  nieces,"  she  begins,  "  yov  have  so 
much  reason  to  complain  of  me  that  I  cSii  not  find 


Sorrowful  Days.  279 

any  excuse  for  myself.  It  will,  therefore,  be  a  shorter 
way  to  ask  the  forgiveness  which  I  doubt  not  you 
will  grant ;  for  if  I  were  to  bring  forward  some  excuse 
that  is  not  exactly  true  I  should  both  injure  myself 

and  set  you  a  very  bad  example I  can  assure 

you,  my  dear  sisters,  it  seems  to  me  as  if  I  could  for- 
get myself  ere  I  forget  you,  and  the  less  I  testify  my 
love,  the  more  I  feel  it." 

We  may  judge  of  the  busy  life  of  the  Sub-Prioress 
by  this  letter  to  her  brother,  of  November,  1660: 

"  Good-morning,  and  a  happy  New  Year  to  you, 
my  dearest  brother.  You  will  not  doubt  my  having 
wished  you  this  most  cordially  when  the  year  began, 
though  I  could  not  tell  you  so  till  its  close.  I  dare 
say  you  wonder  at  my  mentioning  it  at  all,  but  it  is 
right  you  should  know  that  my  complete  dedication 
of  this  year  to  God  has  not  robbed  you  of  anything 
you  had  reason  to  expect  from  me,  for  I  have  prayed 
for  you  continually.  Oh,  when  I  think  how  peace- 
fully this  season  of  separation,  which  we  naturally 
expected  would  prove  so  painful,  has  passed  away, 
and  how  swiftly  this  year  has  fled,  time  seems  of  such 
small  importance  that  I  can  not  help  longing  for 
eternity.  But  I  am  not  going  on  with  so  extensive  a 
train  of  thought,  which,  indeed,  I  began  unintention- 
ally." ....  After  various  salutations  to  friends,  she 
concludes :  ''  To  yourself  I  say  nothing ;  you  can 
judge  of  my  love  by  your  own,  and  you  kiow  that  I 


28o  Sister  and  Saint. 


am  entirely  yours  in  Him  who  has  united  us  more 
closely  in  the  bonds  of  grace  than  in  those  of  nature." 

Early  in  the  year  i66i,  troubles  once  more  thick- 
ened about  Port  Royal. 

Mazarin  died,  and  what  little  influence  Anne  of 
Austria  had,  died  with  him.  Louis  XIV.  had  "placed 
his  conscience  in  the  hands  of  the  Jesuits,"  and  they, 
at  once,  saw  their  opportunity  and  seized  it.  The 
"Five  Propositions"  were  once  more  marshalled  out, 
— "those  celebrated  propositions  which  are  in  the 
'Augustinus'  but  nobody  has  ever  seen,"  as  Pascal 
said,  and  which,  according  to  another  gentleman  who 
read  the  whole  book  carefully  through  to  find  them, 
"  were  there  incognito  if  they  were  there  at  all."  A 
"New  Formulary"  was  drawn  up,  running  (in  part) 
as  follows : 

"  I  condemn,  from  my  heart  and  with  my  mouth, 
the  doctrine  of  the  five  propositions  of  Cornelius 
Jansenius,  which  are  cojitaincd  in  the  book  entitled 
'  Augustinus,'  which  both  Pope  Innocent  X.  and 
Pope  Alexander  VII.  have  condemned." 

Not  only  ecclesiastics,  but  all  the  nuns  and  school- 
masters were  required,  under  very  severe  penalties,  to 
sign  this  paper.  No  exception  was  made  in  favor  of 
those  who  had  never  seen  the  "Augustinus"  or  who 
could  not  read  Latin  ! 

It  was,  of  course,  impossible  for  the  Port  Royalists 
to  sign  such  a  paper. 


Sorroiufnl  Days.  281 

"Persecution,"  says  Tregelles,  *'now  began  in 
earnest.  The  dungeons  of  the  Bastile  were  crowded 
with  those  v.'ho  refused  to  violate  their  consciences  by 
subscribing  what  they  did  not  beheve.  The  very 
passages  of  the  prison  were  occupied  with  prisoners. 

"  M.  de  Saci,  the  nephew  of  the  Mere  Angelique, 
carried  on  during  his  imprisonment  his  well-known 
version  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  Henri  Arnauld, 
Bishop  of  Anjou,  and  three  other  bishops,  refused  to 
accept  the  formulary,  let  the  consequences  be  what 
they  might.  But  it  was  upon  Port  Royal  itself  that 
the  principal  fury  of  the  tempest  discharged  itself." 

In  April,  1661,  there  came  an  order  that  all  the 
pupils  in  the  two  convents  should  be  sent  back  to 
their  homes  within  three  days.  And  the  spring  and 
summer  following  are  crowded  full  of  sorrow. 

The  Mere  Angelique  was  now  old  and  suffering 
from  the  disease  of  which  she  soon  died.  But  the 
day  before  that  fixed  upon  for  the  dispersion,  she  said 
good-bye  forever  to  her  beloved  valley  of  Chevreuse, 
and  was  carried  on  a  litter  to  the  Paris  house. 

"  On  her  arrival  she  found  the  street  thronged  by 
an  immense  concourse  of  people,  the  gates  of  the 
convent  closely  guarded  by  sentinels,  and  the  courts 
full  of  armed  police ;  she  was  carried  into  the  house 
between  files  of  archers.  She  found  the  whole  com- 
munity in  tears  and  lamentations."  There  were 
thirty-three  boarders  in  the  Paris  house,  not  including, 


282  Sister  and  Saint. 

of  course,  the.  novices,  candidates,  and  nuns.  Many 
of  these  young  pupils  were  orphans,  and  knew  no 
other  home  than  the  convent,  and  when  the  time 
came  for  them  to  go,  their  sobs  and  cries  resounded 
through  the  house.  It  was  equally  hard  for  the  nuns 
to  know  that  they  were  to  see  these  children  no  more, 
"  for  they  were  tenderly  attached  to  them." 

"  The  mournful  scene  was  prolonged  eight  days, 
for  some  of  the  parents  lived  in  the  country  and  could 
not  reach  Paris  sooner."  The  children  Avould  throw 
themselves  in  a  crowd  upon  the  nun  who  had  charge 
of  them,  "  weeping  and  holding  fast  by  her  dress." 
Some  of  them  entreated  to  be  received  at  once  as 
novices  that  they  might  stay,  and  others  begged  to 
be  made  lay-sisters,  as  the  servants  were  not  ordered 
away.  But  in  a  few  days  there  came  another  order 
to  expel  every  candidate  and  novice.  Many  touching 
and  thrilling  scenes  are  given  us  in  the  ''  Memoires." 

Angelique  and  Agnes  were  true  mothers  to  their 
whole  flock  in  these  days  of  trial.  They  inspired, 
comforted,  advised,  wept  and  prayed  with  their  chil- 
dren, as  it  is  given  to  mothers  to  do  at  such  times. 
Agnes  wrote  a  very  beautiful  letter  to  the  King  in 
regard  to  certain  novices,  whose  cases  we  need  not 
detail  here.  ''  The  king  praised  the  letter,"  we  are 
told,  but  paid  no  heed  to  its  humble  request. 

Angelique,  from  her  bed  of  death,  also  wrote  an 
appeal  to  Anne  of  Austria,     But  all  was  useless.     In 


Sorrowful  Days.  283 

the  course  of  a  few  days  seventy-five  young  girls  were 
removed  from  Port  Royal  de  Paris,  and  nearly  as 
many  about  the  same  time  left  the  other  house.  Jac- 
queline's two  nieces,  the  Periers,  were  sent  home  to 
their  mother,  who  was  then  living  in  Paris.  Their 
aunt  wrote  to  them  in  June — a  letter  full  of  consola- 
tion and  of  warning.  She  advises  them  to  retire  as 
much  as  possible  from  society.  "  I  do  not  mean  you 
to  be  discourteous,"  she  explains,  ''  nor  to  seclude 
yourselves  entirely,  but  to  seek  retirement  when  not 
actually  obliged  to  mingle  with  society,  and  when  you 
are  to  snatch  a  few  moments  frequently  for  lifting 
your  hearts  to  Godl' 

The  scholars,  novices,  and  candidates  were  gone 
from  both  houses.  The  large,  plain  rooms  were  empty 
and  desolate,  and  the  busy  Sub-Prioress,  doubtless, 
had  time  now  to  sit  down  quietly  to  write  and  think. 
And  now  comes  the  Grand  Vicar  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Paris,  to  go  through  both  convents  and  question 
each  nun  in  turn  as  to  her  belief.  Jacqueline's  ac- 
count of  her  own  examination  is  published  in  the 
"  History  of  the  Persecutions  of  the  Port  Royalist 
Nuns."  She  is  very  modest  and  humble — a  true 
daughter  of  the  Church — yet  we  catch  an  inkling  now 
and  then  of  the  same  quick  wit  and  clear  reason  which, 
in  lier  brother's  brain,  involved  the  worthy  Father  of 
the  "Letters"  in  so  many  "logical  exigencies." 

"  I  am  not  accustomed  to  dive  into  matters  uncon- 


284  SzJer  and  Saint, 

nected  with  duty,"  she  answers  to  one  question,  but 
when  pressed  for  her  opinion,  she  gave  it  simply  and 
clearly. 

At  another  ready  answer,  "  he  smiled  a  little."  Once 
he  asked  her,  "  How  comes  it  that  so  many  persons 
are  lost  eternally?"  *' I  confess  to  you,  sir,"  she  re- 
plies, "  this  thought  often  troubles  me  when  I  am 
praying,  and  I  can  not  help  saying  sometimes,  *  O  my 
Lord  !  how  can  it  be,  after  all  Thou  hast  done  for  us, 
that  so  many  souls  should  perish  miserably?'  But 
when  these  thoughts  come,  I  repress  them,  not  daring 
to  pry  into  the  secrets  of  God,  and  I  find  satisfaction 
in  praying  for  sinners." 

The  Grand  Vicar  answered,  "That  is  quite  right, 
my  daughter." 

When  he  asked  if  she  had  taught  the  novices  cer- 
tain doctrines,  she  said :  "As  I  avoid  puzzling  myself 
with  these  topics,  it  is  not  likely  that  I  should  seek 
to  puzzle  them.  On  the  contrary,  I  have  tried  to 
have  them  as  simple-minded  as  possible." 

At  the  end  of  the  conference  the  examiner  said : 
"  You  are  right,  and  God  be  praised  for  it.  I  believe 
you  are  speaking  to  me  in  all  sincerity.  Send  me 
another  sister." 

And  yet,  after  all  these  things,  the  nuns  would  not 
sign  that  little  formulary.  "  Pure  as  angels  and  proud 
as  devils ! "  exclaimed  the  angry  archbishop.  They 
would* not  sign ! 


Sorrowful  Days,  285 

How  could  they?  How  could  they  declare  that 
certain  things  were  contained  in  a  book  they  never 
had  read  and  never  could  read  ?  They  did  not  believe 
them  to  be  there.  They  loved  the  truth,  and  "they 
clung  desperately"  and  heroically  to  "the  one  shred 
and  particle  o  truth  they  had  discovered."  That  one 
particle  of  truth  was  enough  to  make  them  free — free 
from  blind  obedience  to  a  corrupt  Church,  and  free 
from  fear  of  their  adversaries. 

As  the  Grand  Vicar  completed  his  examination  at 
Port  Royal  de  Paris  (in  July),  he  passed  through  the 
room  where  the  M^re  Angelique  lay  very  near  her 
end.  "How  do  you  feel,  Reverend  Mother?"  asked 
the  ecclesiastic. 

"  Like  a  person  who  is  dying,"  she  answered,  tran- 
quilly. 

"  Do  you  speak  of  death  so  calmly  ?  "  said  he.  "  Does 
death  not  alarm  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  she.  "  I  am  incomparably  more 
alarmed  at  what  I  now  see  taking  place  in  this  house." 
Then,  rousing  herself  and  speaking  with  all  her  old 
energy,  she  added :  "  Oh,  sir,  sir,  this  is  man's  day ; 
but  the  day  of  the  Lord  is  coming,  and  that  will  ex- 
plain all,  and  avenge  all ! " 

A  few  weeks  later,  in  the  midst  of  the  storm  of  per- 
secution, the  good  mother  passed  quietly  to  her  rest. 
Many  were  her  expressions  of  love  to  her  dear  daugh- 
ters during  those  last  days,  but  "  Jesus — Jesus,  my 


286  Sistei^  and  Saint. 

Lord,  my  righteousness,  my  strength,  my  all ! "  were 
the  last  words  upon  her  lips. 

And  still  the  nuns  would  not  sign !  The  court- 
yard of  the  Paris  house  was  full  of  mounted  police 
and  archers,  and  masons  and  carpenters  were  busy 
walling  up  the  very  gates  of  the  monastery,  and  thus 
rendering  their  home  their  prison.  Pere  Singlin, 
de  Saci,  and  all  their  confessors  were  in  concealment, 
and  both  houses  were  deprived  of  all  religious  guides, 
except  the  Jesuits.     Still,  they  would  not  sign ! 

In  this  extremity  some  of  their  best  friends  be- 
thought themselves  of  a  compromise.  A  treaty  with 
the  archbishop  was  opened,  for  the  purpose  of  obtain- 
ing a  modified  declaration  {maiidemcjit),  to  which 
these  women  might  be  willing  to  subscribe  their 
names.  The  scattered  leaders  met,  with  much  risk 
and  difficulty,  in  Pascal's  room  to  talk  the  matter 
over.  Some  of  the  meetings  were  rather  stormy. 
Arnauld  and  Nicole  were  in  favor  of  a  signature  of 
this  modified  formula.  Pascal  was  confined  to  his  bed 
with  the  illness  from  which  he  never  rallied,  but  his 
mind  roused  itself  to  its  full  strength  to  consider  this 
question  which  came  so  near  him.  He  was  in  favor 
of  "  standing  by  God's  truth  at  all  hazards,  even  if  it 
involved  disobedience  to  the  pope."  Arnauld  ably 
argued  the  wisdom  of  trying  to  make  duty  to  the 
Ghurch  consistent  with  the  truth,  and  skillfully  rep- 
resented the  helpless  condition  of  these  nuns. 


Sorrowful  Days.  287 

Pascal  was  stubborn  "  in  his  unconscious  Protest- 
antism." Duty  to  the  Church  could  not,  in  this  case, 
be  made  consistent  with  the  truth.  "  No,  no,"  again 
and  again  he  cried,  "you  can  never  save  Port  Royal, 
but  you  can  be  traitors  to  the  truth  ! " 

At  the  last  conference  the  majority  of  those  pres- 
ent, yielding  to  Arnauld  and  Nicole,  voted  for  the 
compromise.  "  Seeing  which,  M.  Pascal,  who  loved 
truth  more  than  anything  else,  and  who,  in  spite  of 
his  weakness,  had  spoken  with  great  earnestness  in 
order  to  impress  his  convictions  upon  the  others,  was 
so  overcome  with  grief  that  he  fainted,  entirely  losing 
voice  and  consciousness."  When  he  had  recovered 
himself,  and  all  had  gone  away  except  the  Duke  of 
Roannez.  and  another  intimate  friend,  "  Madame 
Perier  asked  him  what  had  occasioned  the  swoon. 
He  replied,  '  When  I  beheld  so  many  persons  to  whom 
God  has  made  known  His  truth,  and  \v^o  ought  to 
be  its  defenders,  thus  giving  way,  I  could  not  bear 
it.'  " 

And  how  was  it  with  Jacqueline  ?  How  was  that 
twin-soul  of  Blaise  Pascal's  settling  this  question  ? 

In  the  quiet  of  Port  Royal  dcs  Champs,  beneath 
the  solemn  hills,  with  no  knowledge  of  what  was 
passing  in  her  brother's  room  in  Paris,  she  thought 
the  problem  out  and  came  to  her  own  conclusion. 
"  Strange  to  say,"  says  Cousin,  "  though  not  aware  of 
the   meetings   at    Paris,    Jacqueline    used   the   same 


288  Sister  and  Saint, 

arguments  and  even,  in  some  cases,  the  very  same 
words  that  Pascal  had  done."  She  could  not  under- 
stand, any  more  than  he,  how  men  claiming  to  be  the 
defenders  of  the  truth,  could  even  seem  to  abandon 
it  on  any  consideration  of  expediency.  "  Brought 
face  to  face  with  danger,  her  intrepid  heart  broke 
forth  in  proud  yet  pathetic  strains,  reminding  us  of 
some  of  the  finest  passages  of  the  '  Provincial  Let- 
ters.' " 

The  advice  of  the  leaders  was  formally  signified  to 
the  nuns.  It  was  that  they  should  sign  this  modified 
document,  "  with  a  distinct  exception  in  favor  of 
Jansen's  meaning."  Not  only  did  Arnauld  urge  this 
step,  but  Father  Singlin,  from  his  place  of  conceal- 
ment, wrote  them  a  letter  advising  the  same.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  Jacqueline  ever  knew  her  brother's 
position  in  the  matter. 

But  before  she  would  yield,  this  heroic  woman 
made  one  more  effort.  Cousin  says :  "  We  ask  of 
all  who  yet  retain  any  sympathy  with  energy  of  charac- 
ter and  with  the  beauty  of  an  unselfish  love  for  truth, 
if  they  have  ever  met  with  many  pages  of  greater 
sublimity  and  strength  than  are  found  in  Jacqueline 
Pascal's  '  Letter  on  signing  the  formulary  '  ?  " 

This  letter  is  worthy,  in  every  way,  of  Pascal's  sis- 
ter. "It  is  an  echo  of  his  own  manly  and  heart- 
stirring  tone." 

"  I   am  convinced,"  she  boldly  declares,  "  that  in 


Sorro'wf7il  Days.  289 


this  course  there  is  safety  neither  for  body  nor  soul. 
Truth  is  the  only  real  Liberator." 

"What  are  we  afraid  of?"  again  she  cries.  "  Ban- 
ishment and  dispersion,  the  seizure  of  property, 
prison,  death,  if  you  will — but  are  not  these  things 
our  glory?  Let  us  either  give  up  the  Gospel  or  carry 
out  its  principles  and  be  happy  in  suffering  for  the 
truth." 

Satire  does  not  fail  her.  "  I  admire  the  ingenuity 
of  the  human  mind,  as  displayed  in  the  perfection 
with  which  the  "■  Mandemeiit'  is  drawn  up." 

"  I  know  very  well  that  the  defense  of  the  truth  is 
not  women's  business.  But  perhaps  when  bishops 
have  the  cowardice  of  women,  women  ought  to  have 
the  boldness  of  bishops." 

And,  at  last,  in  the  note  to  Arnauld  in  which  she 
incloses  the  letter,  the  whole  noble,  womanly  heart 
comes  out  as  she  concludes :  "  Forgive  me,  my  dear 
Father,  and  do  not  imagine  that  though  I  seem  cour- 
ageous, nature  does  not  dread  the  consequences. 
But  I  trust  that  grace  will  support  me." 

The  Prioress  of  Port  Royal  des  Champs,  a  much 
older  woman  than  Jacqueline,  shared  the  scruples  of 
her  subordinate,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  tell  Arnauld 
that  she  did  so.  "  And  that  great  man,"  says  Cousin, 
"  instead  of  being  irritated,  did  his  best  to  answer 
their  objections  in  a  long  letter,  which  unfortunately 
has  been  lost." 
13 


290  Sister  and  Saint. 

At  length,  a  last  communication  from  Arnauld — 
Jacqueline  calls  it  "  a  note  of  command  " — was  sent 
to  them,  and,  one  sad  day,  the  nuns  in  solemn  proces- 
sion signed  the  modified  formulary.  Trained  to  obe- 
dience, influenced  most  of  all  by  the  direction  of 
their  own  spiritual  Father,  Singlin,  they  put  their 
names  to  the  hated  paper. 

All  of  them  made  the  "distinct  exceptions"  sug- 
gested by  Arnauld.  Jacqueline  and  her  sympathiz- 
ing friend,  the  prioress,  added  to  these  "  a  strong 
protest  in  order  to  clear  their  consciences  in  some 
degree."  Yet,  notwithstanding  this,  remorse  and 
grief  so  overcame  these  noble  women  that,  the  next 
day,  both  of  them  were  taken  seriously  ill.  For 
nearly  three  months  they  lingered.  Doubtless  the 
autumn  chill  and  dampness  of  the  valley  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  their  condition.  But  Jacqueline 
said  of  herself  that  she  was  "  a  victim  of  the  formu- 
lary." "  I  speak  in  the  agony  of  a  grief  which  I  feel 
certaiii  will  kill  me,''  she  had  said  in  her  "  Letter  on 
the  Formulary,"  and  the  clear-headed,  conscience- 
searching  nun  was  not  given  to  exaggeration.  "  It 
was  the  woman,  not  the  Christian  which  sank,"  says 
Vinet,  "overwhelmed  by  the  weight  of  her  own 
courage." 

The  prioress,  with  much  difficulty  was  restored  to 
health.  Jacqueline  never  rallied.  On  her  birthday — 
October  4,  1661,  just  thirty-three  years  old — she  died. 


Sorrowful  Days.  291 

We  have  no  details  of  her  last  days.  We  only- 
know  that  neither  brother  nor  sister  were  with  her, 
that  the  Mere  Angelique  was  dead  and  Agnes  very 
feeble  and  imprisoned  at  Paris,  that  she  was  denied 
the  presence  of  her  beloved  Father  Singlin.  But  the 
Lord  remembereth  His  own,  and,  doubtless,  she  was 
ministered  unto  according  to  her  need. 

"  Her  life,"  says  Vinet,  "  is  the  life  of  an  energetic 
woman  ;  her  death — that  of  a  woman.  She  died  of 
grief,  because,  under  the  guidance  of  the  great 
Arnauld,  and  of  the  distinguished  leaders  of  Port 
Royal,  she  had  consented  to  a  transaction  deemed 
proper  by  them  all,  but  in  which  the  exquisite  deli- 
cacy  of  her  moral  sense  detected  a  slight  evasion." 


THOSE    LEFT    BEHIND. 


XIX. 


THOSE  LEFT  BEHIND. 


THERE  was  fresh  sorrow  in  the  convent  now, 
for  "  Sceur  de  Sainte-Euphemie  "  was  greatly 
beloved.  A  touching  and  beautiful  letter  was 
written  by  the  abbess  to  Pascal,  informing  him  of 
their  common  loss. 

D'Andilly's  daughter,  Angelique  de  St.  Jean,  a 
very  lovely  and  talented  woman,  just  Jacqueline 
Pascal's  age,  wrote  to  Madame  Perier.  Her  letter  is 
rather  an  outcry  of  sisterly  grief  than  an  attempt  at 
consolation. 

Good,  quiet,  unpretending  M.  Perier  came  from 
Paris,  hoping  to  find  his  sister-in-law  still  alive.  "  He 
seems  so  grieved,"  writes  Angelique.  "  I  pity  him 
for  the  sad  news  I  have  not  yet  dared  communicate. 
The  Duke  of  Roannez  is  also  here.  I  am  very  glad 
of  that ;  yet  earthly  consolation  is  little  worth.  Alas ! 
how  much  I  had  hoped  for,  in  all  our  present  and 

(295) 


296  Sister  and  Saint. 

future  trials,  from  her  whom  God  has  taken  away, 
lest  we  should  lean  on  her  too  much." 

Father  Singlin  wrote  a  tender  epistle  to  his  daugh- 
ters in  the  Lord,  holding  up  for  their  imitation  the 
virtues  of  their  beloved  sister.  In  the  annals  of  the 
convent,  Jacqueline  is  spoken  of  as,  in  all  respects, 
"  a  perfect  nun — one  whose  eminent  piety  equaled 
the  nobility  of  her  intellect." 

The  brother  and  sister  were,  in  death,  not  long 
divided.  In  August,  1662,  Blaise  Pascal  died.  His 
last  months  were  an  accumulation  of  sufferings — dis- 
ease, penances,  and  griefs. 

His  only  remark  on  hearing  of  Jacqueline's  death 
was,  "  God  give  us  grace  to  die  as  well."  "  Yet," 
says  Madame  Perier  simply,  "  she  was  assuredly  the 
person  whom  he  loved  best  in  all  the  world."  He 
endured  all  trials  with  a  beautiful  patience.  He  was 
ashamed,  he  said,  of  having  so  much  kindness  and  at- 
tention lavished  upon  him,  while  so  many  of  Christ's 
poor  had  not  where  to  lay  their  heads. 

While  the  body  wore  away,  the  active  mind  was 
reaching  farther  and  farther  out  into  its  own  bound- 
less realm. 

In  these  last  years  were  written  those  "  Pens6es  " 
which  will  live  even  longer  than  the  "Provincial 
Letters."  They  were  jotted  down  on  bits  of  paper 
and  pinned  together  without  classification.  "Frag- 
mentary,  but   grand  —  they   are    like    some   temple 


Those  Left  Behind,  297 

portico  in  the  sands  of  Egypt,  ruined  before  finished, 
but  whose  glory  will  never  pass  away.  "*  They  were 
intended  as  parts  of  a  great  work  on  the  evidences  of 
the  Christian  religion,  the  general  plan  of  which  he 
once  sketched  in  conversation  with  the  Duke  of 
Roannez  and  other  friends. 

Once  Pascal  returned,  for  a  brief  season,  to  mathe- 
matical studies.  In  the  course  of  a  few  sleepless 
nights,  caused  by  the  agony  of  tooth-ache,  he  thought 
out,  merely  for  the  sake  of  distraction  from  the  pain, 
a  system  which  came  within  one  step  of  being  the 
"  Differential  and  Integral  Calculus."  Tulloch  says 
that  if  he  had  pursued  this  train  of  thought  "  it  may . 
confidently  be  presumed  that  he  would  have  antici- 
pated Leibnitz  and  Newton  in  the  glory  of  their  great 
invention."  As  it  was,  Pascal's  discovery  brought 
him  great  honors  from  all  the  mathematical  circles  of 
Europe. 

And  who  first  thought  of  the  dray,  the  wheel- 
barrow, the  omnibus  ? — who  but  this  "  miracle  of 
universal  genius  "  ?  Sainte-Beuve  says  :  "  It  seems  as 
if  eveiy  object  he  looked  at  gave  him  a  new  idea, 
often  a  very  practical  one." 

It  is  almost  a  relief  to  have  the  intimation  of  a  fault 
in  the  midst  of  the  many  virtues  all  Pascal's  biogra- 
phers have  presented  to  us.     His  sister  says :  "  The 


*  Villemain. 

13^ 


298 

extreme  vivacity  of  his  mind  made  him  sometimes  so 
impatient  that  it  was  hard  to  satisfy  him  ;  yet  as  soon 
as  he  perceived  that  he  had  grieved  any  one  by  his 
impatience,  he  made  up  for  it  at  once  ijncontijicni)  by 
behavior  so  sweet  and  by  so  many  kindnesses  that  he 
never  lost  the  love  of  any  one  by  this  fault."  We 
may  be  sure  every  word  of  this  is  true.  The  beauty 
of  Madame  Perier's  "Memoirs"  is  their  moderate 
tone.  -Their  repressions  are  more  eloquent  than  any 
panegyrics.  This  very  fault  of  impatience  brings  out 
an  offsetting  virtue — humility.  "  I  have  always  ad- 
mired the  many  great  points  of  this  man,"  said  an 
ecclesiastic  who  visited  him  shortly  before  his  death, 
"but  I  never  knew  before  the  grandness  of  his  sim- 
plicity.    He  is  a  childr 

When  the  end  was  near,  Pascal  insisted  on  leaving 
his  own  house  to  die  at  his  sister's,  because  he  had 
taken  into  his  own  house  a  family,  one  of  whom  was 
ill  of  varioloid,  and  he  would  not  expose  his  sister  to 
the  risk  of  coming  there.*  "  He  was  almost  incon- 
solable" that  they  would  not  let  him  go  to  a  hospital 
"to  die  among  the  poor,"  and  he  begged  his  sister  to 
take  into  her  house  some  poor  sick  person  who  should 
receive  the  same  attentions  as  himself.     This  would 


*  Mi'dame  Perier's  residence  at  that  time  was  No.  S  Rue  Neuve 
Saiiit-Etienne.  Entering  tlie  court,  at  the  right  of  the/^r/<?  cochere, 
you  find  a  little  isolated  pavilion.  There,  in  a  room  which  has  two 
grated  windows  opening  on  the  street,  Pascal  died. 


Those  Left  Behmd.  299 

have  been  done  if  they  had  succeeded  in  finding  a 
patient  in  condition  to  be  moved. 

He  continued  his  austerities  to  the  last,  and  "re- 
strained, even  in  his  dying  hours,  expressions  of  ten- 
derness toward  those  whom  he  loved." 

"  Mistaken — misled  by  a  pernicious  asceticism." 
Most  truly  so,  we  think.  Yet,  some  men's  mistakes 
are  better  than  other  men's  wisdom. 

That  patient  elder  sister,  Gilberte,  had,  indeed, 
many  griefs  to  bear.  Ten  years  after  her  brother,  her 
husband  died,  and  she  was  then  plunged  into  a  sea  of 
pecuniary  troubles.  Two  of  her  sons  died  not  long 
afterward.  In  1687,  at  the  age  of  sixty-eight,  she 
herself  went  to  her  rest.  She  was  buried  in  the 
church  of  Saint-Etienne  du  Mont,  by  her  brother's 
side.     Both  tombstones  may  be  seen  there  to-day. 

Margaret  Perier,  the  heroine  of  the  miracle,  lived 
to  be  eighty-seven  years  old.  She  did  the  world  good 
service  by  collecting  the  papers  of  her  celebrated 
uncle  and  aunt  and  writing  the  memoirs  of  her  family. 
"  All  my  relatives  and  brethren  have  died  in  God's 
service  and  in  the  love  of  His  truth,"  she  says  at  the 
close  of  those  "  Memoirs."  "  I  am  left  alone.  God 
forbid  that  I  should  ever  thir^k  of  renouncing  either!  " 
That  she  did  not  renounce  either  is  shown  by  the  fol- 
lowing memoranda  made  by  some  friend  after  her 
death : 

"Mad^"=    Perier    made,    at    different    times,    long 


300  Sister  and  Saint. 

sojourns  in  Paris,  where  she  was  the  admiration  of 
literary  and  the  consolation  of  religious  people.  She 
had    many   acquaintances    and    a   great    number   of 

friends  of  both  sexes She  left  Paris  altogether 

in  1695,  after  the  death  of  her  sister,  and  went  to  live 
with  her  brother,  then  dean  of  St.  Peter's  (at  Cler- 
mont). At  first  she  remained  at  Bienassis,  which  is 
the  most  beautiful  country-seat  in  the  environs  of 
Clermont,  but  she  would  never  allow  the  smallest 
party  of  pleasure  to  assemble  there. 

"She  had  a  carriage  in  which  to  ride  in  and  out  of 
town,  but,  after  a  while,  gave  up  both  house  and 
equipage,  and  finding  that  the  Great  Hospital  was  in 
want  of  a  superintendent,  offered  her  own  services  to 
the  directors.  They  were  accepted,  and  she  separated 
herself  from  her  brother  in  order  to  live  at  the  hospi- 
tal, where,  however,  her  health,  which  was  much  im- 
paired, did  not  permit  her  to  make  a  long  stay.  Her 
brother  was  now  canon  of  the  cathedral.  They 
bought  a  house  in  its  neighborhood,  and  they  lived 
there  in  a  very  simple  manner.  She  remained  there 
after  his  death. 

"  Mad^''^  Perier  was  always  dressed  in  blaclc;,  of  the 
commonest  material.  Her  furniture  was  perfectly 
plain.  Her  only  domestics  were  a  valet,  who  took 
care  of  the  country  property,  and  two  or  three  maids, 
who,  like  their  mistress,  lived  a  religious  life.  They 
did  not  wear  veils,  but  little  white  hoods.     One  of 


Those  Left  Behind.  301 

them,  who  survived  her,  had  been  in  her  service  fifty 
years. 

"  Some  years  before  her  death,  Mad^"^  Perier  lost 
the  use  of  her  hmbs,  and  this  compelled  her  to  re- 
main within  doors  except  on  festival  days  and  Sun- 
days, when  she  was  carried  to  the  cathedral  in  a  chair. 
She  passed  most  of  her  days  on  a  couch,  and  occu- 
pied herself  with  prayer  and  reading.  Her  visitors 
were  always  charmed  with  her  conversation.  Her 
mind  and  memory,  which  was  excellent,  endured  to 
the  very  last.  By  her  will  she  made  the  poor,  in  the 
General  Hospital  of  Clermont,  her  legatees." 

You  do  not  wish  to  lay  down  the  book  till  we  have 
taken  a  final  glance  at  Port  Royal  ? 

Pascal  was  right.  No  compromises  would  avail. 
TJicy  could  not  save  Port  Royal.  It  was  not  the  sign- 
ing of  a  paper  that  the  Jesuits  wanted.  It  was  the 
giving  up  of  a  principle,  and  these  women  would  not 
give  that  up.  "  You  refuse  to  yield  your  consciences 
to  youn  superiors.  What  signifies  it  that  you  are 
holy  and  virtuous  ? "  said  the  archbishop  when  he 
came  "  in  full  pontificals,  with  a  terrible  countenance," 
to  inspect  Port  Royal  de  Paris.  "  He  forbade  them 
to  approach  the  altar  as  wholly  unworthy,  contuma- 
cious, and  mutinous,"  and  he  warned  them  to  expect 
his  return  at  an  early  day,  "  to  denounce  a  signal  pun- 
ishment which  should  make  them  tremble." 

He   kept    his    promise.     A    rumor   (all    too   true) 


302  Sister  and  Saint. 


reached  them  one  night  that  the  abbess  and  "all  the 
principal  officers  and  nuns"  were  to  be  imprisoned  in 
separate  prisons  or  in  Jesuit  convents. 

The  next  morning  "  the  great  gates  of  the  monas- 
tery being  opened,  the  archbishop's  state-coach,  with 
others  containing  his  officers,  silver-cross  bearers,  and 
ecclesiastics,  and  cigJit  empty  coaches,  with  twenty  con- 
stables with  staves,  and  eighty  soldiers  fully  armed, 
entered  and  arranged  themselves  around  the  court, 
with  loaded  fire-arms  and  fixed  bayonets." 

"  Oh,  ma  Mere,''  whispered  one  of  the  nuns  to 
Mother  Agnes,  "  is  it  possible  that  we,  such  unworthy 
disciples,  should  be  sent  for  with  a  *  band  of  men  with 
swords,  and  staves,  and  chief  priests,'  just  like  the 
Lord  himself  ?  " 

"  Guards  were  placed  at  the  doors ;  and  the  arch- 
bishop alighted  from  his  coach  in  full  state,  with  his 
great  silver  gilt  cross  borne  before  him,  his  mitre  on 
his  head,  and  his  train  borne  by  numerous  ecclesias- 
tics. 

"As  he  alighted,  M.  d'Andilly,  bareheaded,  his  hair 
white  as  silver,  threw  himself  at  the  archbishop's  feet. 
He  had  in  that  monastery  six  daughters  and  had  had 
as  many  sisters,  two  of  whom  yet  lived.  And  in  the 
grave-yard  of  that  monastery  were  the  remains  of  his 
mother  and  his  grandmother,  both  of  whom  had  died 
exemplary  nuns  of  Port  Royal,  and  one  of  whom  had 
bestowed  on  it  that  vciy.  house.     He  uttered  not  a 


Those  Left  Behind,  303 

word,  but  tears  betrayed  what  he  felt  on  seeing  the 
hour  come  when  they  were,  for  their  constancy  in  the 
truth,  to  be  torn  from  that  very  house  their  munifi- 
cence had  bestowed  ;  and  to  be  immured  separately 
in  prisons,  destitute  of  everything." 

The  threat  was  fully  carried  out.  The  M^re  Agnes 
was  imprisoned,  the  last  sacraments  were  refused 
her  when  she  was  believed  to  be  dying,  and  she 
was  threatened  that  her  dead  body  should  be  thrown 
out  unburied.  "  But  she  recovered,  and,  after  ten 
months,  was  sent  back  to  Port  Royal  dcs  Chainps, 
where  she  died  at  the  age  of  seventy-eight. 

Very  thrilling  are  many  of  the  stories  of  these 
days  given  us  in  the  "Lives  of  the  Nuns  of  Port 
Royal."  Gertrude  de  Valois  is  one  of  the  noblest 
instances  of  patient  suffering  for  righteousness'  sake. 
Wealth  and  honor  she  gladly  left  behind,  and  chose 
imprisonment,  torture,  want,  even  to  the  verge  of 
starvation,  for  her  earthly  portion.  She  was  threat- 
ened with  burial  in  unconsecrated  ground  if  she  re- 
fused, to  the  last,  compliance  with  the  demands  of 
her  persecutors.  "Sire,"  she  answered  undauntedly 
to  the  archbishop,  "  I  do  not  think  you  can  bury  me 
in  a  spot  where  my  Lord  can  not  find  me  and  raise 
me  up  again  at  the  last  day." 

Port  Royal  dcs  Champs  was  deprived,  like  its  sister 
community,  of  its  officers  and  principal  nuns,  and, 
after  going  through  a  few  brief  attempts  at  "  pacifica- 


304  Sister  and  Saint. 

tion,"  through  the  influence  of  the  Duchesse  de  Lon- 
gucville,  was  left,  apparently,  to  die  out.  Various 
schemes  were  proposed  by  friends  of  the  nuns.  At 
one  time  the  Duke  of  Roannez  offered  to  buy  an 
island  in  the  St.  Lawrence  for  them  and  bear  the  ex- 
pense of  their  removal  to  America.  Should  we  ever 
have  known  or  guessed  their  virtues  if  they  had  come 
thus  to  our  doors? 

Fifty  years  after  Angelique's  death,  we  are  told, 
there  were  still  twenty-two  nuns  left  at  Port  Royal 
dcs  Champs.  "  They  were  old  and  feeble  women  ; 
bedridden,  paralytic,  dying."  They  had  lived  many 
years  shut  up  in  the  convent,  without  confessor,  with- 
out priest,  without  sacraments. 

Madame  de  Maintenon  made  sport  of  these  old 
women,  and  urged  by  her  and  his  Jesuit  priests,  te 
grand  7iionarquc,  Louis  Fourteenth,  decided  to  dis- 
perse them,  and  forever  blot  out  Port  Royal. 

In  1709,  an  officer  with  three  hundred  soldiers  ap- 
peared in  the  quiet,  almost  deserted  •  valley.  He 
seated  himself  on  the  throne  of  the  abbess  and  ordered 
the  trembling,  but  stout-hearted  old  ladies  to  be  ready 
within  ten  minutes  to  leave  their  home.  They  were 
to  be  exiled  one  by  one  to  different  convents.  The 
prioress,  with  respectful  dignity,  asked  if  they  might 
not  be  allowed  to  go  two  by  two,  as  many  of  them 
were  too  infirm  to  be  without  attendants.  This  was 
refused.     Most  of  them  were  between  seventy  and 


Those  Left  Behind.  305 

eighty  years  old;  the  eldest  was  eighty-six,  the 
youngest  over  fifty.  "  Some  died  on  their  journey  ; 
others  as  soon  as  they  reached  their  destination." 
They  were  imprisoned  in  cells  without  light  or  fire ; 
they  were  deprived  of  sacraments,  arid,  in  some  cases, 
their  dying  hands  were  guided  to  sign  that  hated,  un- 
modified "  Formulary,"  which  no  persecution  had 
been  able  to  make  them  sign. 

Was  not  this  enough  ?  No.  The  convent  itself, 
the  farm-house  of  the  recluses,  the  church,  and  the 
grave-yard  must  suffer.  The  buildings  were  razed, 
one  after  another,  to  their  foundations.  Then  "  a 
band  of  workmen,  prepared  for  their  task  by  drink, 
broke  open  the  graves  of  recluses  and  nuns,  tore  the 
bodies  from  the  graves,  threw  them  together  in  heaps, 
and  allowed  the  dogs  to  feed  on  them.  The  remains 
were  heaped  up  in  carts  and  conveyed  to  a  large  pit, 
into  V,  hich  they  were  cast." 

Thus  was  this  heresy  crushed  out !  Thus  ended,  to 
human  view,  the  lives  and  efforts  of  some  of  the  most 
gifted  as  well  as  the  holiest  children  of  the  Catholic 
Church  of  the  seventeenth  century.  Thus  did  this 
diseased  and  weakening  body  cut  off  its  healthiest 
member ! 

But  exiled  from  that  church's  altars,  denied  the 
consolations  of  her  sacraments,  condemned  to  die  in 
that  spiritual  penury  which  was  to  them  so  much 
worse  than  any  other  want,  these  fainting  souls  found. 


3o6  Sister  and  Saint. 

we  believe,  at  last,  that  righteousness  for  which  they 
hungered.  They  found  it  in  no  earthly  temples,  but 
in  that  Church  above  where  creeds  are  lost  in  Truth. 
They  sowed  in  tears ;  they  doubtless  reap  in  joy. 
Nor  can  such  seed  be  without  a  harvest  for  us  in 
these  ends  of  the  world.  Such  lives  can  not  have 
been  lived  in  vain.  Such  characters  are  an  immortal 
force  for  good.  Jacqueline  Pascal,  from  her  far-off, 
dishonored  grave,  still  speaks  to  us  a  lesson  of  cour- 
age, fidelity,  and  faith. 


FRAGMENTS   GATHERED    UP. 


XX. 


FRAGMENTS  GATHERED   UP. 


THERE  may  be  readers  who  will  like  to  sup- 
plement our  story  with  a  few  further  illustra- 
tions of  its  characters. 
For  such,  these  fragments  have  been  gathered,  and 
let  them   feel  assured  that  there  is  much  more  of 
equal  interest  in  the  great  mass  from  which  these  are 
taken. 

I. 

In  the  history  of  certain  races  there  may  occur  an 
illustrious  moment,  a  unique  moment,  in  which  the 
type  of  that  race,  after  long  elaboration,  attains  its 
distinct  degree  of  energy  and  perfection,  sets  its  dis- 
tinct and  deep  imprint  on  two  or  three  medals,  and 
then  is  broken  forever.  It  was  so  in  the  case  of  Blaise 
and  Jacqueline  Pascal — two  precious  vases,  shattered 
by  the  mighty  workings  of  truth,  genius,  and  feeling 
within  them. —  Vi?iet. 

(309) 


310  Sister  and  Saint, 

II. 
We  experience  a  feeling  of  more  thorough  and  re- 
spectful admiration  for  her  than  for  him.  We  doubt 
whether  we  have  ever  met  with  a  character,  male  or 
even  female,  which  surpassed  Jacqueline's.  Had  she 
been  a  woman  endowed  with  one  of  those  peaceful 
and  innately  submissive  natures  to  which  the  convic- 
tion of  submission  brings  repose,  we  should  not  say 
this.  But  the  history  of  Pascal's  sister  displays  a 
struggle  and  a  victory  of  the  most  arduous  kind,  and 
yet  complete  in  its  results. — Vinet. 

III. 

The  life  of  Pascal  is  worth  a  hundred  sermons,  and 
his  acts  of  humility  and  self-abasement  will  do  more 
toward  checking  the  libertinism  of  the  age  than  doz- 
ens of  missionaries. — Bayle. 

IV. 

pascal's  confession  of  faith. 
(Found  in  his  handwriting  after  his  death). 
I  love  poverty  because  Jesus  Christ  loved  it.  I  love 
property  because  it  affords  the  means  of  assisting  the 
wretched.  I  keep  faith  with  all.  I  do  not  render  evil 
to  those  who  injure  me  ;  but  I  wish  t^iem  a  condition 
like  mine,  in  which  neither  evil  nor  good  is  received 
on  the  part  of  man.  I  try  to  be  just,  true,  sincere, 
and  faithful  to  all  men ;  and  I  have  a  tenderness  of 


Fragments  Gathered  Up.  311 

heart  for  those  with  whom  God  has  closely  united 
me ;  and  whether  I  am  alone  or  in  the  sight  of  man, 
I  perform  all  my  actions  as  in  the  sight  of  God,  who 
is  to  judge  them  and  to  whom  I  have  devoted  them 
all. 

These  are  my  convictions ;  and  I  bless  every  day 
of  my  life  my  Redeemer  who  has  inspired  me  with 
them,  and  who  of  a  man  full  of  weakness,  wretched- 
ness, concupiscence,  pride,  and  ambition  has  made 
a  man  exempt  from  these  evils  by  the  force  of  His 
grace,  to  which  all  the  glory  is  due,  for  in  myself  are 
only  wretchedness  and  error. 

V. 

(On  the  evidences  of  Christianity). 
There  is  light  enough  for  those  whose  sincere  wish 
is  to  see,  and  darkness  enough  to  confound  those  of 
an  opposite  disposition. —  TJioiigJits. 

VI. 

I  lay  it  down  as  a  fact,  that  if  all  men  knew  what 

they  say  of   one  another,  there  would  not  be  four 

friends  in  the  world.     This  appears  by  the  quarrels 

which  are  sometimes  caused  by  indiscreet  reports. — 

Thoughts. 

vir. 

Certain  authors,  speaking  of  their  works,  say,  "  My 
book,  my  commentary,  my  history."     It  were  better 


312  Sister  and  Saint. 

to  say,  "  Our  book,  our  history,  our  commentary ; " 
for  generally  there  is  more  in  it  belonging  to  others 
than  to  themselves. —  ThoiiziUs. 


VIII. 

Curiosity  is  but  vanity.  Often  we  wish  to  know 
more,  only  that  we  may  talk  about  it.  People  would 
never  traverse  the  sea  if  they  were  never  to  speak  of 
it ;  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  seeing,  without  the  hope 
of  ever  telling  what  they  have  seen. —  Thoughts. 

IX. 

What  advantage  is  it  to  us  to  hear  a  man  saying 
that  he  has  thrown  off  the  yoke ;  that  he  does  not 
think  there  is  any  God  who  watches  over  his  actions ; 
that  he  considers  himself  as  the  sole  judge  of  his  con- 
duct, and  that  he  is  accountable  to  none  but  himself  ? 
Does  he  imagine  that  we  shall  hereafter  repose  special 
confidence  in  him,  and  expect  from  him  consolation, 
advice,  succor,  in  the  exigencies  of  life  ?  Do  such 
men  imagine  that  it  is  any  matter  of  delight  to  us  to 
hear  that  they  hold  the  soul  to  be  but  a  little  vapor 
or  smoke,  and  that  they  can  tell  us  this  in  an  assured 
and  self-sufficient  tone  of  voice  ?  Is  this,  then,  a 
thing  to  be  said  with  gayety  ?  Is  it  not  rather  a 
thing  to  be  said  with  tears,  as  the  saddest  thing  in 
the  world  ? — Thoughts. 


Frag7ne7its  Gathered  Up.  313 

X. 

The  style  of  the  Gospels  is  admirable  in  many  re- 
spects, and,  amongst  others,  in  this — that  there  is  not 
a  single  invective  against  the  murderers  and  enemies 
of  Jesus  Christ. —  Thoughts. 

XI, 

The  heart  has  its  reasons,  which  reason  can  not 

understand It  is  the  heart  which  is  sensible 

of  God  and  not  the  reason.    This,  then,  is  faith  :  God 
sensible  to  the  heart. —  Thoughts. 

XII. 
Discontent    is   caused    by   the   knowledge   of   the 
vanity  of  present  pleasures  and  the  ignorance  of  the 
vanity  of  absent  pleasures. —  Thoughts. 

XIII. 

"  Devotion  made  Easy."  From  the  ninth  Provincial 
Letter. 

{Louis  de  Montallc,  the  supposed  writer,  meets  the 
worthy  Jesuit  father). 

The  moment  he  perceived  me,  he  came  forward 
with  his  eyes  fixed  on  a  book  which  he  held  in  his 
hand,  and  accosted  me  thus : 

"  '  Would  you  not  be  infinitely  obliged  to  any  one 
who  should  open  to  you  the  gates  of  Paradise  ? 
14 


314  Sister  an'd  Saint. 

Would  you  not  give  millions  of  gold  to  have  a  key 
by  A^hich  you  might  gain  admittance  whenever  you 
thought  proper?  You  need  not  be  at  such  expense. 
Here  is  one  —  here  are  a  hundred  for  much  less 
money.' " 

At  first  I  was  at  a  loss  to  know  whether  the  good 
father  was  reading  or  talking  to  me ;  but  he  soon  put 
the  matter  beyond  doubt  by  adding  : 

"  These,  sir,  are  the  opening  words  of  a  fine  book 
written  by  Father  Barry  of  our  Society." 

"  What  book  is  it  ?  "  asked  I. 

"  Here  is  its  title,"  he  replied  :  "  '  Paradise  opened 
to  Philagio  in  a  Hundred  Devotions  to  the  Mother 
of  God,  easily  practiced.'  " 

"  Indeed,  father  !  And  is  each  of  these  easy  devo- 
tions a  sufficient  passport  to  heaven  ?" 

"  It  is,"   returned  he.     "  Listen  to  what  follows  : 

*  The  devotions  which  you  will  find  in  this  book  are 
so  many  celestial  keys  which  will  open  to  you  the 
gatQS  o£  Paradise  if  you  will  practice  them.'  " 

"  Pray,  then,  father,  do  teach  me  one  of  the  easiest 
of  them." 

*'  They  are  all  easy,"  he  replied  ;  ■"  for   example, 

*  Saluting  her  when  you  meet  her  image — fervently 
pronouncing  the  name  of  Mary — commissioning  the 
angels  to  bow  to  her  for  us —  .  .  .  .  the  last  pos- 
sessing the  additional  virtue  of  securing  us  the  heart 
of  the  Virgin.'  "  , 


Fragments  Gathered  Up.  315 

"  But,  father,"  said  I,  "  only  provided  we  give  het 
our  own  in  return,  I  presume  ?  " 

"  That,"  he  repHed,  "  is  not  absolutely  necessary, 
when  a  person  is  extremely  attached  to  the  world." 

"  Why,  this  is  extremely  easy  work,"  said  I ;  "  and 
I  should  really  think  that  nobody  will  be  damned 
after  that." 

"  Alas  !  "  said  the  monk,  "  I  see  you  have  no  idea 
of  the  hardness  of  some  people's  hearts.  There  are 
some  who  would  never  engage  to  repeat  every  day 

even   these  simple  words And  accordingly  it 

became  necessary  for  Father  Barry  to  provide  them 
with  expedients  still  easier,  such  as  wearing  a  chaplet 
night  and  day  on  the  arm,  in  the  form  of  a  bracelet, 
or  carrying  about  one's  person  a  rosary,  or  an  image 
of  the  Virgin."  .... 

"  My  dear  sir,"  I  observed,  "  I  am  fully  aware  that 
devotions  to  the  Virgin  are  a  powerful  means  of  sal- 
vation,'and  that  the  least  of  them,  if  flowing  from 
the  exercise  of  faith  and  charity,  as  in  the  case  of 
the  saints  who  have  practiced  them,  are  of  great 
merit  ;  but  to  make  persons  believe  that  by  practic- 
ing these  without  reforming  their  wicked  lives,  they 
will  be  converted  by  them  at  the  hour  of  death, 
does  appear  calculated  rather  to  keep  sinners  going 
on  in  their  evil  courses,  by  deluding  them  with  false 


o 


1 6  Sister  and  Saint. 


peace  and  foolhardy  confidence,  than  to  draw  them 
off  from  sin  by  genuine  conversion." 

"  What  does  it  matter,"  replied  the  monk,  "  by 
what  road  we  enter  Paradise,  provided  we  do  enter 
it?"  (He  quotes  another  Jesuit  writer  to  the  same 
effect). 

"  Granted,"  said  I  ;  "  but  the  great  question  is  if 
we  will  get  there  at  all." 

"  The  Virgin  will  be  answerable  for  that,"  returned 
he.     "  So  says  Father  Barry."  .... 

"  But,  father,  it  might  be  possible  to  puzzle  you, 
were  one  disposed  to  push  the  question  a  little  farther. 
Who,  for  example,  has  assured  us  that  the  Virgin 
will  be  answerable  in  this  case  ?  " 

"  Father  Barry  will  be  answerable  for  her,"  he  re- 
plied (quoting). 

"  But,  father,  who  is  to  be  answerable  for  Father 
Barr>'?" 

"  How  !  "  cried  the  monk  ;  "  for  Father  Barry  ? 
Is  he  not  a  member  of  our  Society  ?  " 

XIV. 

(In  defense  of  the  nuns  of  Port  Royal.     Sixteenth 
Provincial  Letter.) 

Cruel,  cowardly  persecutors  !  Can,  then,  the  most 
retired  cloisters  afford  no  retreat  from  your  calumnies? 
You  publicly  cut  off  from  the  Church  these  conse- 


Fragments  Gaikercd  Up.  317 

crated  virgins,  while  they  are  praj'-ing  in  secret  foi 
you  and  for  the  whole  Church.  You  calumniate 
those  who  have  no  ears  to  hear  you,  no  mouth  to 
reply  to  you.  But  Jesus  Christ,  in  whom  they  are 
now  hidden,  not  to  appear  till  one  day  together  with 
Him,  hears  you  and  answers  for  them. 


XV. 

Violence  and  Verity.     Twelfth  Provincial  Letter.) 

It  is  a  strange  and  tedious  war  when  violence  at- 
tempts to  vanquish  truth.  All  the  efforts  of  violence 
can  not  weaken  truth,  and  only  serve  to  give  it  fresh 
vigor.  All  the  lights  of  truth  can  not  arrest  violence, 
and  only  serve  to  exasperate  it.  When  force  meets 
force,  the  weaker  must  succumb  to  the  stronger. 
When  argument  is  opposed  to  argument,  the  solid 
and  the  convincing  triumphs  over  the  empty  and  the 
false.  But  violence  and  verity  can  make  no  impres- 
sion on  each  other. 

Let  none  suppose,  however,  that  the  two  are  there- 
fore equal  to  each  other  ;  for  there  is  this  vast  differ- 
ence between  them,  that  violence  has  only  a  certain 
course  to  run,  limited  by  the  appointment  of  heaven, 
which  overrules  its  effects  to  the  glory  of  the  truth 
which  it  assails ;  whereas  verity  endures  forever,  and 
eventually  triumphs  over  its  enemies,  being  eternal 
and  almighty  as  God  himself. 


3i8  Sister  and  Saint. 

XVI. 
JacqiLclijie  s  Letter  on  the  Formulary . 

(She  had  deemed  it  her  especial  duty  to  mortify 
her  noble  intellect,  but  she  was  unable  to  destroy  it ; 
it  still  clung  to  her ;  and  though  everything  which 
she  achieved  or  wrote  bears  the  stamp  of  mental 
superiority,  there  is  nothing  comparable  in  this  re- 
spect to  the  Letter  on  the  Formulary,  Closeness, 
sagacity,  vigor  of  argument,  energy  of  language,  every 
ingredient  of  eloquence  is  there,  and  stands  out  in 
fine  relief  from  an  admirable  background  of  humility. 
—  Vinet.) 

The  letter  is  addressed  to  Angelique  de  St.  Jean, 
d'Andilly's  daughter.    We  here  give  it  in  full : 

"  My  very  dear  Sister  : — The  little  notice  that 
has  been  taken  of  our  scruples  in  the  matter  of  the 
signature  would  prevent  my  recapitulating  them  at 
this  time,  did  the  case  admit  of  delay.  As  it  is,  I 
think  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  the  difficulties  I  men- 
tioned in  writing  to  our  Mother  (Agnes),  referred  to 
the  modified  formulary,  the  proposed  mandement,  a 
copy  of  which  had,  by  a  singular  chance,  fallen  into 
our  hands. 

"  We  understand  very  well  the  pretense  that  our 
signature  only  binds  us  to  submission  to  the  Church 
(that  is  to  say,  to  silence  in  matters  of  fact  and  be- 


Fragments  Gathe7'ed  Up.  319 

lief  in  matters  of  faith).  Most  of  us  wish,  with  all  our 
hearts,  that  the  requirement  were  something  worse, 
for  then  we  could  reject  it  with  entire  liberty,  but 
now  some  will  feel  constrained  to  accept  it,  and  false 
prudence  or  real  cowardice  will  induce  others  to  ac- 
cept it  as  an  easy  means  of  procuring  safety  for  the 
conscience  and  for  the  person  as  well. 

"  For  my  part,  I  am  persuaded  that  there  is  safety 
neither  for  body  nor  for  soul  in  such  a  course.  Truth 
is  the  only  real  liberator,  and  she  makes  none  free 
but  those  who  will  themselves  strike  off  their  fitters 
■ — those  who  confess  her  so  faithfully  that  she  can  in 
turn  confess  them  as  the  true  children  of  God. 

"  I  can  not  dissimulate  the  pain  which  pierces  to 
the  very  bottom  of  my  heart  when  I  see  those  per- 
sons to  whom  God  has  confided  His  truth  unfaithful 
to  it,  and,  if  I  may  dare  to  say  so,  wanting  in  the 
courage  to  endure  sufTering,  and  perhaps  death,  for 
truth's  sake. 

"  I  know  the  reverence  that  is  due  to  the  high 
authorities  of  the  Church  ;  I  would  willingly  die  to 
preserve  that  reverence  inviolate,  just  as  I  am  ready, 
by  God's  help,  to  die  for  the  confession  of  my  faith. 
But  it  seems  to  me  nothing  is  easier  than  to  unite 
the  two.  What  is  to  prevent  us — what  is  to  prevent 
every  ecclesiastic,  who  knows  the  truth,  from  answer- 
ing, when  the  formulary  is  presented  for  signature : 
*  I  know  what  respect  I  owe  to  their  lordships  the 


320  Sister  and  Saint. 

bishops ;  but  my  conscience  will  not  permit  me  to 
declare  that  a  certain  thing  is  in  a  book  which  I  have 
never  found  there '  ?  And,  after  that,  we  may  pa- 
tiently await  the  result. 

"What  are  we  afraid  of?  Banishment,  dispersion, 
the  seizure  of  property,  prison  and  death,  if  you  will ! 
But  is  not  that  our  glory,  and  ought  it  not  to  be  our 
joy?  Either  let  us  give  up  the  Gospel  or  follow  its 
principles  and  esteem  ourselves  happy  in  suffering 
for  righteousness'  sake. 

"  But  perhaps  we  may  be  cast  out  from  the  Church  ! 
True  ;  and  yet  who  does  not  know  that  no  one  can  be 
really  cast  out  of  the  Church  except  by  his  own  will  ? 
The  spirit  of  Jesus  Christ  being  the  only  thing  which 
unites  His  members  to  Himself  and  to  each  other, 
we  may,  indeed,  be  deprived  of  the  badge  of  that 
membership,  but  we  can  not  be  deprived  of  the  mem- 
bership itself,  so  long  as  we  preserve  the  spirit  of 
love,  without  which  no  one  is  a  living  member  of  His 
holy  body.  Is  it  not  plain,  therefore,  that  so  long  as 
we  do  not  erect  altar  against  altar  (that  is,  form  or 
join  a  schismatic  Church),  while  we  continue  within 
the  limits  of  simple  remonstrance  and  meek  endur- 
ance of  persecution,  charity  will  of  necessity  unite  us 
to  the  Church  by  inviolable  bonds.  It  is  our  enemies 
alone  who  will  have  excommunicated  themselves  by 
the  divisions  they  are  trying  to  produce ! 

"Alas!  my  dear  sister,  what  joy  we  ought  to  feel 


Fragments  Gathered  Up.  321 

if  we  are  permitted  to  endure  some  special  reproach 
for  Christ's  sake !  But  there  is  too  much  pains  taken 
to  prevent  this,  when  truth  is  so  disguised  that  she 
can  scarcely  be  recognized. 

"I  admire  the  ingenuity  of  the  human  mind  as  dis- 
played in  the  perfection  with  which  this  mandcment 
is  drawn  up.  It  is  worthy  of  a  heretic ;  but  for  the 
faithful — for  those  who  know  and  should  sustain  the 
truth — for  members  of  the  Catholic  Church  to  stoop 
to  such  disguises !  I  can  not  believe  that  such  things 
were  ever  known  in  the  past  ages  of  the  Church,  and 
I  pray  God  that  we  may  all  die  now  rather  than  be 
the  means  of  introducing  such  proceedings  into  the 
Church.  I  find  it  difficult,  indeed,  my  dear  sister,  to 
believe  that  such  wisdom  as  this  comes  down  from 
the  Father  of  lights  ;  rather  it  seems  to  me  a  revela- 
tion of  flesh  and  blood. 

"  Forgive  me,  my  dear  sister,  I  beg.  I  speak  %i  the 
agony  of  a  grief  which  I  feel  certain  will  kill  me,  if  I 
have  not  the  consolation  of  seeing  that  there  are 
some  persons  willing  to  suffer  for  the  truth,  and  to 
protest  against  the  weakness  of  others. 

"  You  know  very  well  that  the  condemnation  of  a 
holy  bishop  (Jansen)  is  by  no  means  the  only  ques- 
tion in  debate.  His  condemnation  includes  that  of 
the  doctrine  of  our  Saviour's  grace.  If  our  times 
are    so    unfortunate    that    no   one    can   be   found   to 

die  for  a  righteous  man,  yet  let  it  not  be  said  that 
14* 


32  2  Sister  aiid  Samt, 

there  is  no  one  willing  to  die  for  righteousness 
itself ! 

"  Perhaps  you  will  say  to  me  that  this  does  not 
concern  us,  because  of  our  own  particular  formulary 
which  our  friends  have  drawn  up  for  us ;  I  answer 
two  things  to  that.  First,  that  St.  Bernard  teaches 
us  that  the  most  insignificant  member  of  the  Church 
not  only  may,  but  ouglit  to  cry  aloud  and  spare  not 
when  he  sees  the  bishops  and  pastors  in  such  a  state 
as  we  see  them  now.  'Who,'  says  he,  '  can  blame  me 
for  calling  out,  though  I  am  but  a  feeble  sheep,  if  I 
try  to  awaken  my  shepherd  when  I  see  him  asleep 
and  on  the  point  of  being  devoured  by  a  wild  beast  ? 
Even  were  I  so  ungrateful  as  not  to  do  this  out  of 
love  and  gratitude,  ought  not  a  sense  of  my  own 
peril  to  prompt  my  utmost  efforts  to  arouse  him? 
For  who  is  to  defend  me  if  my  shepherd  is  devoured? ' 
Thi^  as  you  know,  does  not  refer  to  our  own  pastors 
and  friends,  for  they  have  as  great  a  horror  of  dis- 
guises as  I  have ;  but  I  speak  of  the  leaders  of  the 
Church  in  general. 

"  The  other  thing  which  I  answer,  and  which  I  con- 
fess to  you,  my  dear  sister,  is  that  I  have  not  been 
able  thus  far  to  entirely  approve  our  formulary,  even 
as  it  now  is.  I  could  wish  changes  in  several  par- 
ticulars. 

"  The  first  is  at  the  beginning  ;  for  it  seems  hard 
for  persons  like  us  to  offer  so  freely  to  give  an  ac- 


Fragments  Gathered  Up,  323 

count  of  our  faith.  I  would  give  it,  however,  but 
with  a  little  preamble  which  should  take  away  the 
apparent  presumption  of  such  a  declaration.  The 
second  point  is  toward  the  close,  where  I  would  not 
mention  the  decisions  of  the  Holy  See.  It  is  true  we 
do  submit  to  those  decisions  in  matters  of  faith,  but 
the  vulgar  do  not  discriminate,  and  it  would  be 
thought  that  we  assented  to  the  condemnation  of 
Jansen. 

"  I  know  very  well  that  the  defense  of  the  truth  is 
not  women's  business.  But  when  bishops  have  the 
cowardice  of  women,  women  should,  perhaps,  have 
the  courage  of  bishops.  And,  if  it  is  not  for  us  to 
defend  the  truth,  we  can,  at  least,  suffer  for  it. 

"  A  comparison  occurs  to  me,  illustrating  my  idea 
on  the  decisions  of  the  Holy  See.  Everybody  knows 
that  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity  is  one  of  the  princi- 
pal points  of  our  faith,  and  Saint  Augustine  (for  in- 
stance) would,  without  doubt,  willingly  confess  and 
sanction  it ;  yet,  supposing  his  native  country  hap- 
pened to  be  in  possession  of  a  pagan  prince  who 
wished  to  have  the  unity  of  God  denied,  and  a  plu- 
rality of  deities  acknowledged,  and  supposing  a  cer- 
tain formulary  had  been  drawn  up  to  this  effect,  '  I 
believe  that  there  are  several  persons  to  whom  we 
may  give  the  name  of  God  and  address  our  prayers,' 
do  you  believe  St.  Augustine  would  sign  such  a 
formulary  ?     I  do  not  believe  he  would,  and  what  is 


324  Sister  mid  SamL 

more, '  I  do  not  believe  he  ought  to  if  he  would. 
Now  what  I  say  of  St.  Augustine  I  say  also  of  you 
and  of  me,  and  of  the  most  insignificant  persons  in 
the  Church.  The  feebletiess  of  our  influence  does  not 
lessen  our  guilt  if  we  use  that  influence  against  the 
truth. 

"  M.  de  St.  Cyran  often  says  that  the  least  truth  of 
religion  ought  to  be  defended  as  jealously  as  Christ 
himself.  Where  is  the  Christian  who  would  not 
abhor  himself  if  he  had  been  present  in  Pilate's  coun- 
cil, and  when  the  question  of  Christ's  condemnation 
arose,  had  been  contented  with  giving  an  ambiguous 
answer?  Is  not  the  sin  of  St.  Peter  trivial  in  com- 
parison with  such  a  sin,  and  yet  how  St.  Peter 
mourned  all  his  life  long  over  his.  sin!  Follow  this 
comparison  to  its  last  results,  I  beg  you.  My  letter 
is  only  too  long  already. 

"  This,  dear  sister,  is  what  I  think  about  the 
Formulary :  I  wish  it  to  be  clear  in  all  that  it  con- 
tains, and  these  words  or  something  like  them,  might, 
I  think,  be  placed  at  its  head :  Ignorant  as  we  are, 
all  that  can  be  expected  of  us  in  this  signature  is  a 
testimony  to  the  sincerity  of  our  faith,  and  of- sub- 
mission to  the  Church,  to  the  Pope  as  its  supreme 
head,  and  to  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  our  superior  ; 
although  we  do  not  think  it  right  that  we  should  be 
called  upon  to  give  an  account  of  our  faith  as  we 
have  never  given  any  occasion  for  that  faith  to  be 


Fragments  Gathered  Up.  325 

called  in  question ;  nevertheless,  to  avoid  the  sus- 
picions our  refusal  might  occasion,  we  testify  in  this 
public  manner  that,  esteeming  nothing  so  precious  as 
the  treasure  of  a  pure  faith,  we  wish  to  preserve  ours 
at  the  expense  of  our  lives,  if  need  be ;  we  desire  to 
live  and  to  die  humble  daughters  of  the  Catholic 
Church,  believing  all  that  she  believes,  and  ready  at 
any  time  to  die  for  the  least  of  her  truths. 

''  Let  us  pray  God,  my  dear  sister,  that  He  will 
strengthen  us  and  make  us  Jiumble,  for  liinnility  with- 
out strength,  and  strength  without  humility ^  are  equally 
dajigerous.  This,  more  than  ever  before,  is  the  time 
for  us  to  remember  that  the  fearfid  have  their  place 
with  the  unbelieving  and  the  abominable. 

"  If  they  are  contented  with  the  statement  I  have 
sketched,  well  and  good.  For  myself,  if  the  matter 
is  left  in  my  own  hands  I  shall  never  sign  anything 
stronger.  Then  let  what  will  come.  Poverty,  dis- 
persion, prison,  death — all  these  seem  to  me  nothing 
in  comparison  with  the  anguish  of  my  whole  future 
life,  if  I  should  be  wretched  enough  to  make  a  league 
with  death  instead  of  profiting  by  such  an  opportu- 
nity of  paying  #iy  vows  to  God. 

"  It  is  indifferent  to  me  what  words  are  used,  pro- 
vided we  give  no  reason  to  think  that  we  condemn 
either  the  doctrine  of  the  grace  of  Jesus  Christ,  or 
him  who  has  so  ably  expounded  it. 

"  That   is  why,   in   saying    '  believe   all   that   the 


326 


Sister  and  Saint. 


Church  believes,'  I  have  omitted  the  words  '  and 
condemn  all  that  it  condemns.'  I  believe  that  this 
is  not  the  tvne  to  say  that,  lest  the  condemnation  of 
the  Church  should  be  confounded  with  the  present 
decision.  Even  as  our  beloved  M.  de  St.  Cyran  says, 
*  Pagans  having  placed  an  idol  on  the  spot  where  a 
cross  once  stood,  Christians  should  not  go  there  to 
worship,  lest  it  should  seem  as  if  they  were  worship- 
ing the  idol.' " 


INDEX. 


PAGE 

d' AlGUiLLON,  Duchesse 34,  84 

d'Alibrai,  M 105 

d'Andilly 71,135 

"        and  St.  Cyran 75,89,90 

d' Andilly's  daughter 71,  295 

Angers 137 

Annat,  Father 257,260 

Anne  of  Austria 87,  156,  257,  280 

"                "        examines  the  mir- 
acle     271 

"  "       Jacqueline's  poems 

dedicated  to. . . .     20 

"  "       peculiarities 10 

"  "      receives  appeal  from 

Angelique 282 

"  "      Regent 85,  166 

Anjou,  Bishop  of 281 

Archbishop  of  Paris 271,  283 

"  "     angry 285 

"  "     answer  of  Ger- 

trude de  Va- 

lois  to 303 

Arrnand 35 

Arnaulds 135,  138,  197 

"        father  of. 255 

Arnauld,  Agnes 68,  109,  136,  232,  270 

"            *'      characteristics. .  .157-159 
"            "      childish  characteris- 
tics    137 

"  "      comforts  Jacqueline.  211 

"  "      imprisoned  at  Paris.  291 

"  "      last  days  , 303 

"  "      portrait  of    134 

"            "            "  by  Philip 
"            "          de  Champagne...   158 
"            "      writes     to     Jacque- 
line    124,  158,  181 

"  "     writes  letter  to   the 

King 282 

"  "      writings  of. 158,199 

Arnauld,  Angelique. ...  68,  log,  123,  iSo 
^vice  in  matter 

of  dowry 212 

childish  charac- 
teristics. .   136,  137 
comforts  Jacque- 
line    214 

contrasted   with 
Agnes. ..   156,  157 

death 285,  286 

leaves  Valley  of 
Chevreuse.. . .  281 


PAGE 

Arnauld,  Angelique,  letter  to  Anne 

of  Austria...     283 
"                "          sketch  of.  ..   134-147 
"                "          takes  in  benight- 
ed nuns 217 

"                "          view  of  miracle.  272 
"                "          writes     to     Jac- 
queline     124 

Arnauld,  Anne 137, 197,  246 

"  "     as  teacher 244-246 

Arnauld,   Antoine   (the   Great    Ar- 
nauld)    83,  138 

and  the  Sorbonne 

257,  260,  261 
answers  objections. 

289 
in  favor  of  signing 

Formulary.  286,  287 
Jacqueline's   note 

to 289 

"note     of     com- 
mand '' 290 

Arnauld,  Henri 137,  281 

"        Madame 152 

"        Madeleine 138,  233 

"        Mane  Claire 69,  137 

"        Simon 138 

Augustinus,  The 54 

"  "  contains    the   Five 

Propositions.  257,  280 

"  "   finished 58,  59 

"  "What  it  was 61 

Auvergne 3,  4,  31,  269 

Bastille 31,  281 

Battledore  and  Shuttlecock 58,  249 

Bayonne 56,  57 

"        Bishopric    offered    to    St. 

Cyran . .     67 

Beau  Soleil,  Baron  and  Baroness  de.     88 

Bellay,  M.,  confirms  Jacqueline 82 

Bernard,  St 227,  231 

Bible,  French  translation  of. . . .  22S,  281 

Bienassis 125 

Body,  Pascal's  neglect  of. 229-231 

Bossuet 168,268 

Calculus,  Differential  and  Integral.  297 

Calvinism  or  Calvinist 42,  61,  138 

Capuchin    friar,  preaches    at    Port 

Royal 139 

Cid,  The 45 

(327) 


,2S 


Index. 


PACK 

Codex  claromontanus 6 

Conde.  Prince  of 121,  169,  270 

Conti,  Prince  and  Princess  of 272 

Corneille 44,45,268,273 

Cornet.  Father.   .         257 

Champagne,  Philip  de,  painting  by.   158 

Chapelet  Secret,  Le 158 

Charles  I.  of  England I'l  67 

Chevreuse,  valley  of 133,  134,  150 

"  "     Angelique  leaves 

281 
"  "     dampners  of.  152,  153 

Clermont 3,4,263,266 

"         Fastings  and  vigils  at.   161-164 

"         Hospital 300,301 

"        Jacqueline  visits 128 

Cliiny,  Hotel 123 

Defretal,  Father 263 

De  la  Bouteillerie 81 

Descartes 25 ,  99,  100 

"        meets  Pascal  in  Paris 104 

Deslandes 81 

De  Wert,  John 8q 

Director  of  Consciences 66 

Directress,  Jacqueline  appointed  her 

brother's 227,239 

Du  Droit,— question 260 

Du  Fait, — question 260 

Elvira,  Countess  of  Toulouse 5 

Escobar 266 

Examination  of  Jacqueline  before 
Grand  Vicar 284 

Felix,  M  . . . .  _ 271 

Five  Propositions,  The  62,  257 

"  "  again  marshalled 

out   2S0 

"  "  discussed  by  Ar- 

nauld  and  the 
Doctors  of  the 
Sorbonne  ..    .  260 

Flavie,  Sister 269,  270 

Fontaine    73 

Formulary ...  258 

"          Dying  nuns  made  to  sign.  305 
"         Jacqueline'sletteron  sign- 
ing the 288,318-326 

"  Modified 286 

"  New    280,281 

Fronde,  Wars  of  the 169 

"  Fruit  Wnit  " 156 

Galileo 99 

Gassion 42 

Grand  Vicar 271,  2S3,  284 

Granges,  Les 155,229,259 

Guemene,  Princess 86,  S7,  271 

Guillebert,  Pastor. ... 79i  80,  81 

"  '•      training  under. .. .   113 

Hamilton,  Sir  William  (estimate  of 
Pascal) 29 

Hauranne,  Jean  du  Verger  de  (St. 
Cyran) 56 


paqe 

Hautefort,  Madame  de.    19 

Henrietta  of  Kngland 67 

Henry  Fourth  (of  France) ...   139 

Hippocrates 230 

Holy  Sacrament,  adoratio'n  of..  200.  201 

Holy  Thorn,  miracle  of 268-273 

Huguenots  48-50 

"  Angelique's  aunts 139 

"  Grandfather  of  the  Ar- 

naulds ..   138 

"  resemblance  of  Jansen- 

ists   to    . .                    ...     61 
Hymn  translated  by  Jacqueline 178 

J.^NSEN,  CoRNFLifS,  sketch  of  life.  54-62 

'■         portrait  of 134 

Jansen's  great  work(.r<r?  Augustinus). 
Jansenism  or  Jansenist     ..   241,255,257 

"  characterized 256 

Jesuits  and  New  Formulary     2S0 

"  and  Pascal's  experiments. .. .  loi 
"  and  Provincial  letters  262,  263 
"      and   the   Five    Propositions. 

257.  258 

Jesuits' hatred  of  St.  Cyran 72 

'•      influence  with  government. 

255-257 

Jesuits  punish  Port  Royal..  286,  301-306 

"       Schools 72 

Lancelot.  73 

Latin  Quarter 123 

Laud,  Archbishop 11 

Letters  of  Jacqueline  Pascal... .  35,  124, 
173,  190,  205,  215,  221,  223.  224,  229, 
230,  231,  234,  269,  270,  278,  279,  283,  288 

Letter  on  Formulary 318-326 

Letters,  Provincial,  (j^^  Pascal,  Blaise). 

Liancourt,  Due  de        259 

Longueville,  Duchessc  de..   169,  271,  301 

Louis  XI    ..       7 

Louis  Xni 10,  85 

Louis  XIV 86 

"        "     conscience  of. 280 

"        "     disperses  the  nuns 304 

"         "     education  of. 167 

Louvain 56,58 

Maintenon,  Madame  de 304 

Maitre,  Le   138 

"       Madame  Le 135,136,228 

Mandement  (modified  formula).  286,  289 

ISIarion,  M 136 

Maternite,  La  (Hospital) 123 

Mazarin,  Cardinal.  85,  137,  156,  166,  169, 
257,  280 

!Medici,  Cosmo  di 99 

Mersenne,  Father 100 

Moliere  268 

Mons,  M.  de  (assumed  name  of  Pas- 
cal)   263 

Montalte,  Louis  de  (Pascal's  noui  de 

flu  »ie) 266 

Montpensier,  Mad'selle  de 18 

Morangis,  M.  and  Madame  de 18 


■  Index. 


329 


Nicole 286 

Novice,  Jacqueline  as 205 

Novices,  Duties  as  sub-mistress  of. 

231,  232 

"        reception  of 218 

"        Sub-mistress  of 239 

Pailleur 25 

Palais  Royal lo 

Pascal,  Blaise 8 

"           "      atmospherical    experi- 
ments        98-101 

"  "      austerities  of....   242,244, 

278,  298,  299 

"  "      calculating  machine.  42,  98 

"  "      confession  of  faith. .. .  310 

"  "      conversion  of. 83-85 

"  "      death  of. 298,299 

"  "      difficulties  in  regard  to 

dowTy 208-2H 

"  "      settlement   of  difficul- 

ties    in     regard     to 

dowry 214,  215 

"          "      dray  invented  by.    ...   297 
"           "      encourages       Jacque- 
line's project 117 

"           "      experiments  on  sound.     22 
"          "      fault  mentioned  by  sis- 
ter  _. 297,  298 

"          "      Geometrical  investiga- 
tions    23-25 

"  "      ill-health..   96,  97,  102,  103 

"  "      Jacqueline's   letter  on 

taking  the  vow..  206-208 
"          "      later  mathematical  stud- 
ies     297 

"  "      love  for  Jacqueline.. . .   296 

"  "      mental  struggles..   115,  116 

"  "      omnibus  invented  by..  297 

"  "      opinion     on     signing 

Formulary 280,  287 

"  "      Pensiies  297 

"  "  "       extracts    from. 

311-313 
"          "      Provincial  letters.   2^9-268 
"          "      Provincial  letters,  ex- 
tracts from         ..  313-317 
"          "      Provincial  letters,  ori- 
gin of 260,  261 

"  "      remark  on  Jacqueline's 

death   396 

"  "      "  Second  conversion". 

223-229,  241 

"  "      simplicity  of. 298 

"  "      statue     in     Tour    St. 

Jacques 107 

"  "      system   of  learning  to 

read 234-2  36 

"  "      system  of  logic 236 

"  "      theories   of  education 

73-  236 
"  "       wheelbarrow  invented 

by       397 

"  "      woildliness.   192,  193,  241, 

242 


PAGE 

Pascal,  Etienne 7,  16,  20 

"            "      answers  Father  Noel.  loi 
"            "      conducts  his  son's  ed- 
ucation     16,23-25 

"  "      Councillor  of  State...   116 

"  "      death  of     .  189 

"  "      flight  from  Paris 31 

"  "      Intendant    of     Nor- 

mandv 4^1 

"  "      Jacqueline's  letter  to. 

1^3-177 
"  ■'       opposes  Jacqueline's 

project 122 

"  "      slips  on  ice 81 

"  "      special  love  for  Jac- 

queline ...  31.97,123 
Pensees  (sec  Pascal,  Blaise). 

"       edifiantes,      by     Jacqueline 

182-185 

Pericr,  Florin 43 

''          ■'      a-ssists  in  Pascal's  ex- 
periments    107 

"  "      at  Jacqueline's  death.  295 

"  "      austerities 223 

".  "      builds  country-seat 125 

"  "      conversion  of  and  wife.    85 

"  "      helps   with   Provincial 

letters   263 

"  "      joy  in  miracle 271 

"  "      letter  from  Jacqueline. 

221,  222 

Perier,  Margaret     46,113,263 

'•  "         miraculous   cure  of. 

268-  27V 
"  "         sketch   of  after-life. 

299-30T 

Perier,  Madame,  marriage  of    43 

•'          lays     aside    orna- 
ments   114 

"              "          position  in   regard 
to     Jacqueline's 
dowrj'.     .   .  209,  210 
"             "          sorrows  and  death.  299 
Poem  on  miracle,  Jacqueline's  (esti- 
mate of)     ■ 293 

Poems  of  Jacqueline  (published)...     20 

Pope  Alexander  VII 280 

Pope  Innocent  X   2S0 

Pope  Urban  H     4,  5 

Poitiers  (St.  Cyran,  Bishop  ofl         .     64 

Port  Royal ■  ■  73-  108,  116,  123 

"        "       Constitutions  of. ...  199,201 

"         "       distress  at 169-171 

"        "       endowing  208-211 

"         "       final     scenes      at      des 

Champs   304-306 

"         "      final  scenes  at  Paris.  301-303 

"         "       fruit  of        156 

"         "       Jacqueline  enters. ..  215-218 
"         "      Jacqueline  leaves  home 

for     .». ..   19s 

"         "       Jacqueline's     reception 

at 197,  198 

"         "      life  at 133-156 

"        "       popularity  of 86,277 


Z^o 


hidex. 


PAGE 

Port  Royal,  probation  at 205 

"         "       receiving  a  novice  at 218 

"        "       schools  for  boys 72,73 

"        "       schools  for  girls 244-246 

"        "       troubles  at.  259,280,281-283 

Pntherie,  M.  de  la 270 

Prince  Henry  of  Bourbon. ...    76 

Prize  at  Rouen 45 

Provincial  Letters  (see  Pascal,  Blaise) 

Puritans 12 

Piiy  de  Dome,  atmospherical  experi- 
ments on 6,108 

Puy  de  Dome,  finding  of  Codex  clar- 
omontanus 6 

Queen  of  Poland 271 

Racine 73i  168 

Raymond  of  Toulouse 5 

Recluses 72,152-154 

Reflections — Jacqueline's  on   death 

of  Christ   172,182-185 

Renti,  Marquis  de  230 

Richelieu — and  St.  Cyran 66-68 

'•  death  of 85 

"  imprisons  St.  Cyran...  74-76 

"  pardons  Pascal,  P&re.. ..     38 

"  play  acted  before.   . .   .  33-37 

"  receives  Pascal  children      20 

"  speculations 16,30 

"  wars  against  Huguenots.     10 

Roannez,  Due  de 242,295,304 

"  Mdelle  de 242 

Roberval 25,  105 

Rochelle  139 

Rocroy 121 

Rouen   39,43,44,79,80 

Rouville 79 

Ruel,  play-acting  at 35 

Rules,  Jacqueline  Pascal's,  for  gov- 
ernment of  children 246-252 

Saci,  de  73,  228,  230,  281 

Saintot,  Madame  dc   17,  37 

Serenade,  by  Jacqueline 47 

S6ricourt,  de       ..       71 

Sevign6,  Madame  de 133 

"         Marquis  de 271 

Singlin,  P^re     . 

"  '■     advice  as  to  signature 

of  Formulary  2S8 

"  "     does    not    approve    of 

Pascal's  mirth 264 

"  "     course    in    matter    of 

dowry 212 

"  "    guidance     of    Pascal. 

224-228 
"  "    judgment  of  Jacque- 

line's "vocation  "..  117 


PAGB 

Singlin,  Pfere,  letter    after    Jacque- 
line's death 296 

"  "     opinion      on     writing 

poetry r8o 

Skepticism  does  not  attack  Pascal..     84 
Small-pox,  Jacqueline  suffers  from. 

31-33 

"  lines  on  recovery 32 

Sonnet,  Devotional 47 

Sorbonne 103,  123,  257 

"  Spiritual  regimen  " 230 

Stanzas    thanking   God    for  gift   of 

verse  21 

Stanzas  on  recovery  from  small-pox.    32 

St.  Ange,  Madame  de     87 

St.  Augustine,  studied  by  the  two 

friends 57,  58 

St.  Augustine,  St.  Cyran  reading...     74 
St.  Augustine,  "  mystic  tower  ",....   125 

St.  Cyr,  Convent  of 135,  T56 

St.  Cyran,  Abbe  de 65-76 

"  anecdotes  of 69-72 

"  illness  and  death 90,91 

"  in  prison 87-89 

"  intimacy  with  Jansen.  56-60 

"  portrait  of 134 

"  released 85 

"  sayings  of.. 221,222 

St.  Etienne  du  Mont,  tomb  of  Pas- 
cal and  sister  209 

St.  Francis  de  Sales 138,  144,  162 

St.  Jacques,  Tour  de   107,  108 

"  Faubourg  de 152,217 

St.  Lawrence,  river 304 

St.  Germain,  verse-making  at 18-20 

St.  Sulpice,  Due  de  Liancourt  con- 
fesses at 259 

System   of  learning    to    read,   Pas- 
cal's  234,  235 

System  of  logic,  Pascal's     235 

TiSCHENDORF 6 

Torricelli 99,  100 

Tuilleries 169 

Vacuum,  theory  of 98 

Valois,  Gertrude  de  (answer  to  Arch- 
bishop)    303 

Versailles   134 

Verses  recited  to  Richelieu     35, 

Verses  of  Jacqueline...  4,  21,  32,  47,  48, 
119, 179 

Verses  written  for  the  Queen 18,19 

Vincennes 74,  79 

Voltaire  269 

Ypres,  Jansen  Bishop  of 58 


bR1725  P3^4x 

k'^eitzel,  Sophie  ^^inthrop 

Sister  and  saint; 


